30 Days to Us
by InvisiMeg
Summary: One shot. A story about how much your life can change in just thirty days.


**This may not be everyone's cup of tea, but I've had this idea for nearly two years, so I finally decided to write it while I could. I hope you enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

Quinn looked down at the computer, scrolling through the pictures. She had a slight frown on her face as she went through them, but her fiancé didn't seem to notice. He was smiling widely and there was a slight gleam in his eyes that she hadn't seen in a while. Sighing, she sat back, stopping on a picture of a tent at one of the places they had looked at.

"I like the first one," Sam said, reaching out for the mouse, and scrolling back to the beginning pictures. "What do you think?"

"Either is fine with me," Quinn said, rubbing her eyes.

She didn't want an outdoor wedding, but Sam did. She always dreamed of getting married in a large church, maybe the one her parents and sister married in, but Sam had immediately started talking about having the ceremony someplace else. She didn't know why he didn't want to have a church wedding, but he was insistent about having it somewhere 'cool'. She was just glad she talked him out having everyone come as their favorite movie character. She may be willing to let him have his way about most aspects of the wedding, but she did have to put her foot down about that. She couldn't let her parents attend a wedding where the groom was dressed up like a superhero or one of those blue things from that movie he loved so much.

"C'mon, you have to like one better," Sam said.

"The first is fine," Quinn replied.

She was just happy Sam had finally proposed. They had been together since high school and she was getting tired of fielding her parents' questions about why they weren't married yet. Her sister had already given them two grandchildren and she was expected to follow in her footsteps, doing just as their mother had done.

Quinn knew her parents didn't like Sam as well as her sister's husband, but he was sweet and she knew he would make a good father. Plus, he wasn't usually pushy about things and she found it easy to be around him. He may not be perfect, but was a better choice than all the other guys she'd gone to high school with, and she had always loved the idea of marrying her high school sweetheart.

"Have you decided who's gonna be your maid of honor?" Sam asked.

"No," Quinn answered.

"Shouldn't you, like, figure it out soon?" Sam asked.

"I was actually thinking I might have two," Quinn replied. "If I choose Santana, Brittany is going to be hurt, which will make Santana mad. If I choose Brittany, Santana will be mad that I didn't pick her. Either way, Santana is going to end up mad at me and I would rather avoid that."

"I'll never get why you're friends with her," Sam said, shaking his head.

"It's complicated," Quinn replied for what felt like the millionth time.

It was always her answer when he brought it up. She was aware Sam didn't like Santana—and the feeling was completely mutual—but he didn't have to like her or understand. Her friendship with Santana had always been complicated—sometimes she didn't know if they were friends or enemies—but the other woman knew her better than anyone. They may fight and occasionally hate each other, but she also trusted Santana more than anyone except maybe Brittany. The two, for better or worse, had always been there for her whenever she really needed them, which was more than she could say for the other people in her life.

"I just think she might try to mess everything up," Sam said.

"She won't," Quinn said, hoping it was true, but knowing Santana, she probably would make a scene.

"If you're sure," Sam remarked.

"I am," Quinn stated.

She maybe have let Sam get his away about the rest of the wedding, but this wasn't really negotiable. She wanted her two best friends up there with her. This was the biggest day of her life, after all, and they were really more like family than friends. It was the reason no matter how much she and Santana disagreed or fought, they still remained in each other's lives.

"Does that mean I need two best men?" Sam asked.

"It would make things even," Quinn commented. "It's up to you, though."

"Should we call about the site?" Sam asked. "I don't want anyone else to get it."

Quinn sighed and nodded. "I'll call today."

"Awesome," Sam said, kissing the side of her head.

She reminded herself that making Sam happy was what was important; it's what her mother always did for Quinn's father, and it was what she now had to do. After all, he was going to be her husband very soon, and she wanted him to be happy.

* * *

"To being single," Rachel said, holding up her glass.

"I am not toasting to that," Kurt remarked.

"And last time I checked, you had that oaf of a boyfriend," Jesse added.

"Actually, I broke up with Finn this afternoon," Rachel replied. "As of one-thirty today, I am a single woman."

She saw the looks her friends exchanged and put one hand on her hip while the other still held the glass in midair. She didn't understand why they weren't celebrating with her. Jesse told her weekly how she could do better than Finn, Tina had hinted at it on occasion, and Kurt had talked with her more than once how he didn't know if they were right together and how he thought they were holding each other back.

"Why are you not toasting with me?" Rachel asked.

"Forgive us, but haven't we heard this before?" Tina asked.

"I mean it this time," Rachel stated. "Finn and I are over, and this time it's for good."

Jesse snorted and looked away while Tina and Kurt both looked skeptical. Sure she and Finn had broken up in the past—six or so times, actually—but this time, she meant it. She knew they would both be better off if they were separate. Finn was a good guy, but he wasn't necessarily good for her. He didn't like living in New York City and often made that very clear, but Rachel couldn't see herself living anywhere else in the world. Her dreams were there; his were not.

And that was part of the problem, really. Finn didn't have dreams or at least none that were realistic. He talked about being an actor for a while, but after getting turned down by one school, he never mentioned it again. Rachel, on the other hand, had been accepted into one of the most prestigious schools in the city and was currently starring in a Broadway show. It had been her dream since she was a child to be up on that stage and her dreams had come true. She would always love Finn, but she loved Broadway more, and if she had to choose between the two, she knew exactly which one would win.

"He's moving back to Ohio," Rachel informed them.

"Is he still living at the apartment?" Tina asked.

"He is staying with a friend from work at the moment," Rachel replied. "He thought it would be best if he didn't have to see me right now."

Jesse shrugged and held up his glass. "To being single."

They clinked their glasses together and Rachel smiled, taking a drink. It was a Tuesday night, so the club was more empty than usual, but she was in the mood to celebrate. She knew she couldn't drink too much—she had a show the next day, after all—but she was in the mood to dance, and this was one of the best places to go.

"Ten dollars says you two will be back together by the end of the week," Kurt remarked.

"You're on," Jesse replied. "I think it will take a month."

"It only took three days last time," Tina chimed in.

Rachel scoffed. "I can't believe my three best friends are betting on my love life."

"Believe it." Jesse smirked. "We do it every time; you just haven't been aware of it."

"I am highly disappointed in you three," Rachel scolded. "Now—who is going to dance with me?"

"Kurt can," Jesse replied. "I see a cute girl by the bar and I would like to get to know her a little better."

"Maybe we should start betting on how long it will take her to turn you down," Kurt whispered.

Rachel and Tina laughed when Jesse shot him a glare as he began walking toward the bar. They watched as he walked up to the girl in question, wedging himself in the tiny space next to her. Rachel was pretty sure she saw her with a guy when they first came in, which probably meant Jesse would indeed be turned down. She just hoped the boyfriend didn't come back and try to pick a fight with him. He was the leading man in her musical and she would hate for him to have a black eye when he had to go on the next day.

"Hi," a guy in glasses and a button-up said, looking at Kurt. "Would you like to dance?"

"I would love to," Kurt said.

"You were supposed to dance with me!" Rachel called out as he started walking away.

"Sorry," Kurt said over his shoulder, not sounding very sorry at all. "Dance with Tina."

Rachel sighed. "Boys."

Tina laughed lightly. "_Do_ you want to dance?"

"Are you sure you don't want to dance with that guy that's been staring at you since we walked through the door?" Rachel asked.

"What guy?" Tina said, looking around the room.

"Do you see the guy in the navy shirt," Rachel said, nodding toward the bar.

"Yes," Tina said, standing on the tips of her toes to see beyond the crowd. "Oh, he's cute. Are you sure he's been looking at me?"

"Positive," Rachel replied.

She noticed him looking at her for the last thirty minutes. He had walked past them as they were coming in and nearly collided with her because he was so busy looking at her friend. Clearly Tina found him attractive, too, now that she had noticed him since she began blushing.

"Go ask him to dance," Rachel said when Tina looked torn.

"But you brought us all here because you wanted to celebrate and dance," Tina replied, turning back to Rachel.

"I'll find someone to dance with me," Rachel stated. "It shouldn't be too hard, I hope."

"Are you sure?" Tina asked.

"I am completely certain," Rachel replied. "Go have fun."

Tina gave her a smile and then turned on her heel, walking over to the guy. Rachel sighed; so much for dancing with her friends tonight. She wanted them to be happy, though, and enjoy their night, so she would just find someone else to dance with.

* * *

As soon as Quinn walked into the apartment, she knew something was off. Sam's car was in the driveway, but he wasn't in the living room like he usually was and the bedroom door was closed. She wasn't usually home at this time—she took a half day at work because she had a headache—so she knew he wasn't expecting her. As she walked toward the bedroom door, she crossed her arms; she recognized the sounds from when Sam thought she was asleep. But he wasn't alone.

She heard the distinct sounds of a woman in there with him. Part of her wanted to turn around, walk out of the apartment, and pretend she was never there, but she couldn't do that. The man she was engaged to was in _their_ bedroom with another woman. This wasn't how things were supposed to go.

She stood outside the door for several minutes while they finished what they were doing, having no desire to see them in the act. As she listened, she wondered who he was in there with. She had a few guesses; there was a woman at the supermarket that always seemed to flirt with him any time he went shopping with her, and then there was the girl at the comic book store. Quinn went with him one time—an experience she was happy never to repeat—and he seemed far too friendly with one of the employees. After giving him the coldshoulder most of the day, Sam had finally realized her problem and promised nothing was going on. At the time she believed him, but now she wasn't so sure.

When the noises inside finally ceased, Quinn squared her shoulders and put her hand on the doorknob. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door. The look of shock on Sam's face was instantaneous and the girl next to him immediately tried to cover herself. Quinn was wrong about it possibly being the girl from the supermarket or the one from the comic book shop. She had never seen this girl—a very fake blonde, who had a bad dye job.

"This isn't what it looks like," Sam finally said when he regained his ability to speak.

"I'm sure," Quinn sarcastically said.

"I-I—"

He seemed to be at a loss for words, which was just fine with Quinn. She didn't want to hear his explanation—his lies—and she was in no mood to listen to him right now. As the two began to throw on their clothes, Quinn walked over to the dresser and pulled out a few articles of clothing for herself before going to the closet and pulling out her suitcase.

"Where are you going?" Sam asked. "You can't leave."

"Watch me," Quinn evenly replied.

"But—"

"Sam, don't say another word to me," Quinn demanded as she calmly put her clothes in the suitcase.

She didn't grab much; just enough clothes for a couple days and the essentials. When she walked out of their bathroom, the other woman was gone and Sam was sitting on the bed. He jumped up the moment she came in, but Quinn ignored him, making a beeline for her suitcase. She threw her things in and roughly zipped it.

"Please don't go," Sam said, following her into the living room. "It's not what you think. That—it's never happened before. I-I made a huge mistake and—"

"I don't care," Quinn said, interrupting whatever was about to come out of his mouth. "Our engagement is off."

"Please—"

"Try to call me and I'll give Santana my key to this apartment," Quinn threatened.

Sam instantly closed his mouth; they both knew exactly what Santana would do to him and he rightfully knew Quinn would make good on her threat. Without another word, Quinn turned and walked out of the apartment. As she walked to her car, the numbness she felt began to wear off and it was replaced with hurt and anger. Since she couldn't go to her parents' house—there was no way she would go and listen to them talk about all the things she did wrong and why she should forgive Sam since she made a commitment—there was only one place she could go.

The moment Santana opened the door and saw her on the stoop, she asked, "What the hell happened?"

"I caught Sam with another woman," Quinn answered.

Without saying anything, Santana turned, walking back into the apartment she shared with Brittany. Even though she hadn't been invited in, Quinn walked inside and set her bag down near the door. She didn't know where Santana went, but Brittany rounded the corner and immediately smiled at her, giving her a hug.

"What are you doing here?" Brittany asked when she let her go.

"Is it okay if I stay here for a few days?" Quinn asked.

"Yeah, but why do you need to stay with us?" Brittany asked, her smile turning into a worried frown.

"Sam and I broke up," Quinn explained.

"But you were gonna get married," Brittany said, almost looking as if she was about to cry.

"I know, but Sam did a bad thing," Quinn replied, not wanting to get into the details of it with her friend.

"Where are you going?" Brittany asked as Santana walked past them.

Quinn rushed after Santana, grabbing her by the arm to stop her from doing whatever she was going to do. "Santana, please don't do anything."

"Why not?" Santana snapped. "Someone needs to make sure Froggy Lips never gets to feel any form of pleasure ever again and I think I'm just the person to do that."

"I know you want to hurt him and part of me wants to as well, but can you not do this today?" Quinn begged. "I would rather eat ice cream and watch terrible movies than have to bail you out of jail tonight."

Santana's jaw clenched and she crossed her arms. "Can I do it tomorrow?"

"You can do whatever you want tomorrow," Quinn said.

She knew Santana would be a little more rational by then and would be less likely to commit a felony. Plus, she really did need her two best friends right now.

* * *

"I wonder if Tina is having a good time on her date," Rachel commented as she took a seat on the couch.

"Well, she hasn't sent us a text telling us to save her, so I'm going to guess it's going better than her last few," Kurt replied.

Rachel laughed; their friend had the terrible luck of having notoriously bad dates. Her last one ended when she sent a plea for their help after her date took her to a play that lasted eight hours. She made it through half before finally contacting Rachel, who called to lie about needing her. Tina was currently out with the guy she met at the bar, and Rachel hoped they were hitting it off. Her friend hadn't been in a relationship in several years and Rachel knew she was getting lonely.

"Have you heard from your mystery guy?" Rachel asked.

Kurt sighed. "No, and I don't think I'm going to. It's already been two days."

"Maybe he's been busy," Rachel replied, causing Kurt's eyebrow to rise. "Or maybe he's not going to call."

"You know he would have called by now if he was going to," Kurt remarked.

Kurt had just as bad of luck as Tina did. He dated a lot, but he had yet to find Mr. Right or anyone who had even come close. In high school, he thought he had, but after moving to New York, his boyfriend cheated on him and then tried to act as if it was Kurt's fault for leaving. Thankfully, he didn't go for any of his ex's attempts at wooing him back. Unfortunately, in the years since then, Kurt hadn't had a relationship to last more than a few months.

"Would you like to watch a movie?" Rachel asked.

"Okay, but nothing with romance," Kurt replied.

Rachel frowned. "I don't think that leaves us with many options."

"Fine, nothing too sappy," Kurt amended.

"Something older or something new?" Rachel asked.

"Older," Kurt answered.

"Legally Blonde?" Rachel suggested.

Kurt shrugged. "Okay."

It was their default movie for when one of them was down. And while Rachel put in the movie, Kurt went into the kitchen to make some popcorn. Rachel settled back onto the couch just as he walked back in, putting the bowl between them. With a sigh, he sat down, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Is everything okay?" Rachel asked.

"Finn called me earlier," Kurt replied.

"Oh," Rachel said, wondering why he was bringing this up now.

"He's going to start working at my father's shop when he goes back to Ohio," Kurt said, looking at her. "I told him he should think about college, but he doesn't seem to think he can get in anywhere."

Rachel shook her head. "I will never understand why he believes that. Even with his grades in high school not being the best, I'm sure there are plenty of colleges he could get in to."

"Maybe it's for the best," Kurt said with a shrug. "My dad keeps talking about retiring from the business and now he can have someone to pass Hummel Tires & Lube onto."

"Are you sure you don't want it?" Rachel joked.

"I think I'm okay without it," Kurt said wryly.

"How is Finn doing?" Rachel asked.

"He misses you," Kurt stated. "But I think he agrees with whatever you said to him. He kept talking about New York never being his dream and never fitting in here. He thinks Ohio will be better for him."

"Well, I hope it will be," Rachel remarked.

"How are you doing?" Kurt asked.

"I'm the one who broke up with him," Rachel reminded him.

"I know, but you two have been dating off and on for the last nine years," Kurt replied.

"We have, but I think it's finally time that we both move on," Rachel said, taking a deep breath. "Finn was my first love; I'm sure I will always have feelings for him, but I no longer believe we're going to get our happily ever after. He wasn't happy here and I will never be happy anywhere else. It wasn't fair to him for me to expect him to live here the rest of his life. He needs to figure out what his dreams are and he will never be able to do that here." Rachel shook her head. "We have been holding each other back because neither of us wanted to let go. Well, I finally let go."

Kurt nodded. "Well, if you're okay."

"I'm okay," Rachel instantly replied.

"And Finn's okay—" Kurt said.

"There is nothing to worry about, Kurt," Rachel replied. "Finn may be sad right now, but I believe he will come out better in the end. Hopefully one day he can forgive me for it and we can be friends again."

"When were you ever friends?" Kurt asked.

"We were friends before we began dating," Rachel defended.

"If you say so," Kurt replied, obviously not believing her.

"We were!" Rachel insisted.

"Okay," Kurt said, still sounding skeptical.

Rachel frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. "Let's watch the movie."

* * *

"Brittany, can you put the boxes together while Santana and I pack everything?" Quinn asked as she let her two friends inside.

"Sure," Brittany responded.

Brittany wasn't the most organized or careful, so Quinn knew it would be a better job for her, and someone had to be the one to put the boxes together. Plus, she knew Santana would be less easily distracted. The down side was that Santana was nosy and would probably memorize what boxes to go through at a later time.

She had only been at Santana and Brittany's for two days, but it already felt strange being back in the apartment she shared with Sam. But it no longer felt like hers. It had been tainted—defiled. Seeing her fiancé in bed with another woman was all she could see when she looked around. The first time she saw the apartment, she instantly feel in love with it, but now she felt physically sick standing in it.

"Where do you want to start?" Santana asked.

"The bedroom," Quinn replied.

"Are you sure?" Brittany asked, sounding worried. "Maybe San should do it and you can do something else."

Quinn shook her head. "I'll be fine."

She didn't really feel fine, but she didn't want her friends to know that. Brittany would just worry about her and Santana would only tell her to suck it up. Or at least something to that effect; her friend probably wouldn't put it that nicely.

When Santana opened the door, Quinn scowled as she looked at the bed. Sam hadn't even bothered to change the sheets that he screwed someone else on. Of course that would mean he would have to figure out where they clean sheets were kept or do laundry, so she knew she shouldn't be surprised.

"Damn," Santana kicked aside some dirty clothes that were lying on the floor, "he really doesn't do shit around here, does he?"

"Not really," Quinn mumbled.

She had always been okay with keeping the house up—her mother always told her it was the woman's job to do it—but a little help would have been nice. He did occasionally do the dishes and sometimes cooked for her, which was always a nice surprise, but it wasn't often. She supposed it was her fault, though; her mother's voice was always in the back of her head, and when she and Sam moved in together, she hoped she could show him what a good wife she would make in hopes of getting him to propose.

"There should be a suitcase at the back of the closet if you want to pack the clothes," Quinn said.

"Yeah, make me fold your shit," Santana grumbled, but walked over to the closet nevertheless.

She went into the bedroom and packed the things of hers that remained, putting them into the bag she used for travelling. It wasn't a lot—she had taken most of it with her when she left—and she quickly threw everything into the bag, leaving the bathroom before she dumped something of Sam's into the toilet. She was trying to take the high road and dipping his toothbrush into the toilet was definitely not the high road.

"What is that?" Quinn asked, pointing to a pile of her clothes that was on the floor.

"That's the crap I'm not packing," Santana stated with a shrug of her shoulders.

Quinn frowned. "Why not?"

"Because that shit's hideous, Q," Santana replied. "Most of it makes you look like a seventy-year-old, Amish nun."

"Pack it or I will," Quinn demanded, rolling her eyes.

"Fine, but I'm just trying to do the world a favor," Santana remarked.

Santana unceremoniously threw the pile into a duffle bag and Quinn shook her head, walking out of the room. When she walked into the living room, Brittany was sitting in the middle of the floor, working on the boxes. She had two together, so Quinn grabbed one and walked to the bookcase. She got rid of most of her books when she got them digitally, but she still preferred to hold the actual books in her hands, so she had kept her favorites.

"I accidentally broke something," Brittany said behind her.

"It's okay," Quinn said, looking over her shoulder.

Sam's collector's edition Batman figurine was sitting on the floor, its arm disconnected from its body. It was one of his favorite things and she knew he wasn't going to be happy about it.

"How did that happen?" Quinn asked.

"I accidentally knocked it off the table and then sort of stepped on it," Brittany replied.

Her friend had a slight smile on her face and Quinn had the feeling it had been no accident even if it wasn't like her to do something like that. Regardless, Quinn gave her a faint smile back until she heard keys jingling just outside the door. She specifically came when she did because Sam should be at work, but as the door opened, she realized she wasn't going to get her wish of an easy getaway.

"Quinn," he said the moment he noticed her.

He tried to rush over to her, but Santana was already coming out of the bedroom. She stepped between them, shoving Sam back and crossing her arms over her chest like she was daring him to come closer.

"Can we talk?" Sam asked.

"No," Quinn said, turning her back to him to continue boxing up her books.

"Please," Sam begged. "Just give me, like, two minutes."

"She said no," Brittany said, stepping next to her girlfriend.

"C'mon, please," Sam said. "I'm sorry; I know I screwed up, but can't we try to work on it?"

"You didn't screw up; you screwed someone else," Santana retorted. "There's nothing to talk about. Se largue de aquí antes de que me alimente a su dick a Lord Tubbington."

"Go, Sam," Quinn demanded. "Santana's right—there's nothing to talk about."

She was trying to keep her voice steady even though she felt as if she was about to cry. He had ruined everything she had been working toward for the past eight years, and she could never forgive that. And if he didn't leave soon, she was going to say screw it to the high road and let Santana do whatever she wanted to the apartment once her stuff was out.

* * *

Rachel took a sip of her coffee as she focused on the book in her hands. She didn't get to read often—she had a busy schedule, after all—but she always took time out on Saturday to read a chapter or two. She had to be at the theater soon to prepare for their matinee show, but at the moment, she was simply enjoying her morning. Even the rain couldn't dampen her spirits today.

She wasn't even sure why she was in such a good mood, but she woke up feeling rejuvenated and excited to begin her day. It was a good thing, too, because Saturdays were always extra busy since they did two shows that day. By the end of the night, she was usually dead on her feet and would want nothing more than to go home and crawl into bed. It usually didn't happen since her friends often liked to go out on Saturdays nights, but she usually tried to take it easy at least.

"Good book?"

Rachel looked up at the interruption. "So far."

The guy smiled at her. "I may have to read it some time."

Rachel smiled back, turning her book over so she didn't lose her place. The guy was clearly flirting with her, and for once, Rachel didn't have to feel bad if she flirted back. Of course, she never would have cheated on Finn, but sometimes it was nice to know other people were interested. Now, however, she was single and not opposed to getting back into the dating world. She was more the type who liked to be in a relationship rather than date around, but she didn't just expect someone to magically fall into her life like Finn had, so she knew she was going to have to go on a few dates—or more—before getting to that place again.

"Would you like to join me?" Rachel asked.

"I'd love to," the guy replied, his smile growing. "I'm Paul."

"Rachel," she said, taking another sip of her coffee.

"What do you do, Rachel?" he asked.

"I'm in musical theater," she replied.

"Are you in anything right now?" Paul asked.

"As a matter of fact, I'm starring in Living for the Weekend," Rachel replied. "At least for the next three weeks. I have been in it for the past year, so I've decided to do something new. So, I will be taking a small break as I look for my next project."

"You don't like being in it?" he asked.

"Oh, I love Living for the Weekend, but I want to grow as an artist and that means taking on other roles," Rachel replied.

When she first told Jesse, he thought she was crazy for leaving the show, but Rachel didn't want to be stuck in one role forever. She wanted to do other things—be other people—and that meant taking the leap. She was certain she would find a new project in due time, but she was also looking forward to a small break. She had been working for the past six years with next to no time between project and it would be nice to have some time off.

"Well, maybe I'll come see it before you leave," Paul commented.

"It's a wonderful musical, if I do say so myself," Rachel replied. "My best friend, Jesse, is wonderful in it, as are all of my other colleagues."

"And you?" he asked.

"Why don't you come see and find out," Rachel said with a smile.

She knew she was amazing in it, but she didn't want it to sound like she had an ego. Because she didn't—she just believed in her talent. Other people often took it the wrong way, though. She didn't have a lot of friends in high school because of it. When most people met her, they thought she was a diva, but Rachel felt as if she was far from one. Yes, she believed in herself and was disappointed when she didn't get what she thought she deserved, but she worked hard for everything she had accomplished and most people overlooked that fact.

"Maybe I'll actually like this one," he commented. "My crazy ex-girlfriend used to drag me to those things and I wanted to rip off my ears every time."

"Your crazy ex-girlfriend?" Rachel repeated.

"Yeah, she was a total nut," Paul said, leaning back in his seat. "She kept trying to get me to go to musicals and eat her vegan crap. It's like she wanted me to be her gay best friend or something instead of her boyfriend."

"I'm afraid I don't see how going to musicals and enjoying a vegan diet would mean you were gay," Rachel said.

"Guys don't do that," he stated.

Rachel stared at him; she hoped he was joking, but he looked completely serious. "I can assure you, not all guys are the same."

She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Jesse walk into the coffee shop and quickly waved at him, cutting off anything Paul was about to say. She wanted to be rid of him and get out of this conversation, but it was hard to do when she couldn't leave. Thankfully, Jesse was early, and hopefully Paul would take the hint to leave.

"Sorry, I know I'm a bit early," Jesse said as he approached. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Not at all," Rachel said, jumping up to give Jesse a hug.

"Well, actually—" Paul began to say.

"Save me," she whispered into Jesse's ear.

"Then you won't mind if I sit down," Jesse said, taking a seat in the remaining empty chair.

"We were sort of in the middle of something here," Paul said.

"Actually, Paul, Jesse and I are supposed to discuss work and I'm afraid it would be quite boring for you," Rachel lied.

Paul nodded as he rose. "Do you think you can get me some tickets for your show?"

"I don't know," Rachel said, acting like she was actually thinking about it. "Since it's my remaining few weeks appearing in it, tickets have been going quickly. I think we're sold out."

"Yes, everyone wants to come watch Rachel Berry's final appearance," Jesse added.

"Well, maybe I'll see you around?" Paul asked.

"Maybe," Rachel said, plastering on a fake smile.

Paul nodded again and finally walked away from the table. Jesse looked at her curiously and she waved him off, not really wanting to talk about it. Now, she remembered what she hated so much about trying to meet someone. In the few times she tried dating other people while she and Finn were broke up, it almost always ended in disaster for her. Usually, it was why she decided to get back together with him. Sometimes she felt like he was one of the only decent guys left in the world. He had his faults—quite a few of them, really—but it was nothing compared to the other guys she met.

* * *

As Quinn stood in the line that was moving far too slowly, she wondered how she let Brittany and Santana talk her into this. She was never one for going to bars, but yet here she was, waiting to get into the newest bar in town. She already knew she would regret coming with her friends; they—more specifically Santana—would spend all night trying to make her drink while Quinn would rebuff her attempts. She was already tired of being there and they weren't even inside yet.

"This is taking too long," Brittany said with a pout. "I just want to dance."

"Hold on," Santana said, and Quinn watched as her friend shoved between everyone, elbowing them in the side when they didn't move quickly enough.

"What is she doing?" Quinn asked.

"Getting us in," Brittany said, smiling.

Quinn furrowed her brows. "She isn't going to threaten the guy at the door, is she? On second thought, I hope she does so I can go home."

"We're in," Brittany said, grabbing Quinn's hand, and pulling her toward the front of the line.

"Don't look so disappointed, Q," Santana said with a smirk.

Brittany didn't let go of her hand as they walked inside. It had been loud outside, but it was considerably loud in the large, open room, and Quinn could already feel herself getting a headache. Santana wasted no time getting them to the bar, where she easily got the bartender's attention and ordered shots of tequila for each of them.

"I want to dance!" Brittany said, practically yelling to be heard over the music.

"In a minute, B," Santana said, placing a kiss on her girlfriend's cheek. "I promise you'll get to dance all you want." Santana paid the bartender. "Now everyone drink up."

Santana downed one shot and slid the other two over to Quinn. The blonde stared at them for a moment and then looked up at a smirking Santana, who said, "Someone's gotta make sure we get home tonight."

"Why can't I do that?" Quinn asked. "Why is it Brittany?"

Brittany shrugged. "I just want to dance tonight."

"You heard her," Santana said, pushing the shot glasses even closer. "Britts just wants to dance. You, on the other hand, need to loosen that chastity and have a little fun for once in your boring, pathetic little life."

"Getting drunk and having even drunker guys trying to grope me isn't exactly my idea of fun," Quinn retorted.

"So find a drunk girl," Santana said, smirking at her once again.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "You know that's not what I meant."

"Whatever, Q," Santana said, grabbing Brittany's hand. "Throw yourself a pity party at the bar; I don't care. If you need me, I'll be over there dancing with my hot girlfriend."

Quinn watched as Santana pulled an excited Brittany to the dance floor. Sighing, she picked up one of the shots and threw her head back. The liquid burned all the way down and she tried not to cough. She decided to forego the second shot; she didn't want to lose control tonight and she knew Santana would inevitably be back to buy more drinks for them later.

She had only gotten drunk once and she hated the loss of control that came with it. Quinn very much liked to be composed and in control, and vowed to never experience that again. And after this week, she regretted it more than ever.

It was her senior year and she went to a party with Brittany, Santana, Sam, and a few other friends. They all got wasted and the next morning, Quinn found herself in bed with Sam. She was the president of the Celibacy Club and she broke her vow to wait until she was married. And what made it even worse was that she could barely remember it.

After that, Sam wanted to do it again, but Quinn wouldn't. She may have broken her vow once, but she wasn't going to break it a second time. From that point on, Sam had always tried to push the boundaries, but Quinn never gave in. Really, it hadn't been that difficult; she had never been very interested in the prospect of sleeping with Sam, and that night had done nothing to change that.

"Would you maybe like to dance?"

"No," Quinn immediately answered, not bothering to look up at the guy who'd approached her.

"Why not?" the guy asked.

Quinn couldn't help but roll her eyes; she looked at him, giving her best unimpressed face, which wasn't too hard. The guy wasn't her type and was someone she would never give a second though about if she passed him on the street.

"I don't need to give you a reason," Quinn coldly replied. "I said no, so get it into your head that I'm not dancing with you, and go find someone who is actually interested."

The guy scowled and Quinn turned her back to him. She had no interest in dealing with guys like him. It was one of the reasons she hated coming to places like this. At least before Sam was usually around, so guys kept their distance, but now that she was there alone, she figured it would be a common occurrence tonight. If they could take no for an answer, it wouldn't be such a problem, but they always liked to argue and ask why like it was going to change her mind. In reality, it just pissed her off.

"Hey, wanna dance?"

"No," Quinn said, sighing.

"C'mon, just one—"

"I said no," Quinn interrupted, grabbing the other shot from the bar. "Take a hint."

Quinn threw back the shot and it was no easier going down than the first. She may have no plans to get drunk, but she figured she could drink a little. If Brittany and Santana were going to want to be there as long as she figured they would, she knew she was going to need it.

"Hey, dance with me!" Brittany said, bounding up to her.

"I really don't—" Quinn sighed when her friend's face dropped. "One dance."

Brittany smiled and offered Quinn her hand, and she couldn't help but smile back. Her life may have fallen apart that week, but at least she still had her friends by her side. For that, she was grateful, and figured she could at least give Brittany one dance if it would make her happy.

* * *

Rachel looked at herself in the mirror and sighed; she didn't sleep well the night before and it showed. Her eyes were a little red and she had dark circles under her eyes that the makeup wasn't hiding very well. She just hoped it wasn't completely obvious to the audience.

"You're being paranoid," Jesse stated.

"I am not being paranoid," Rachel replied.

"Then stop staring into the mirror," Jesse said, cocking his eyebrow at her.

With a huff, Rachel turned away from the mirror and crossed her arms as she leaned back against the vanity. "Why are you even in here? Isn't your dressing room good enough?"

"I live to annoy," Jesse replied.

"Well, you're doing a very good job at it," Rachel remarked.

"Good," Jesse said with a smirk. "I've accomplished my goal."

Rachel huffed again, but resisted the urge to stop her foot in annoyance. "Really, why are you here?"

"Do you want me to go?" Jesse asked.

"No, I was just curious," Rachel replied. "You don't generally hang around my dressing room. You're usually too busy flirting with that understudy."

"Yes, well, she has a boyfriend now," Jesse commented.

"When had that stopped you before?" Rachel asked.

"He made it clear that he did not appreciate it," Jesse stated.

"He's a lot bigger than you, isn't he?" Rachel inquired.

"Maybe," Jesse said, looking away.

Rachel laughed lightly. Jesse had a knack for picking unavailable women and it wouldn't be the first time he had a run in with one of their boyfriends. She also doubted it would be the last time. He was a huge flirt and it often got him in trouble. It was a good thing it usually didn't get physical because she had a feeling her friend wouldn't come out very well in a fight. Luckily for Jesse, he was also very good at talking his way out of the situation.

"Any sign of the coffee guy?" Rachel asked.

"Not so far," Jesse replied.

She was afraid he was going to show up to one of her performances. Of course, if he bothered her, she could always call security, but she didn't want it to come to that. She hoped he had gotten the hint and wouldn't come to the theater, but he didn't really seem like the type to easily get a hint.

"Good," Rachel said. "Let's hope it stays that way."

"Are you ever going to tell me what he did?" Jesse asked lightly.

"It just became clear that he was not going to be open minded enough to be my type," Rachel replied. "He basically said that the only guys who enjoy musical theater or are committed to a vegan lifestyle are gay."

"I'm both of those things," Jesse said with a scowl.

"Precisely," Rachel replied. "He seemed nice enough, but it's not as if I have an abundant amount of free time, so I would rather not waste it on someone I know is going to be wrong for me."

"Well, if you're ready to date, I may know someone," Jesse said.

"Oh," Rachel said, her curiosity piqued.

"So, if you're really over Finn—"

"I am," Rachel interrupted. "Well, maybe 'over him' is too strong, but I am ready to see what else is out there."

"Then let me set you up," Jesse said.

"What's his name?" Rachel asked.

Jesse smirked. "On a blind date."

Rachel huffed. "So you're not going to tell me anything about this guy?"

"Not a thing," Jesse said, shaking his head. "You can trust me, though; I believe we've known each other long enough for me to know your type, and this guy is your type."

Rachel wished she knew who she was agreeing to go out with, but she said, "Okay."

"Great," Jesse replied. "I'll see when he's free and if he's interested, and then I'll let you know."

Rachel hoped Jesse picked a decent guy. He had questionable taste in women, so she hoped his taste in men for her was a little better. It would be the first time she had gone on a real date in over a year, and she was actually excited about the prospect. As much as she had tried to keep the romance alive with Finn, they didn't really go out at all. Sometimes they would go to dinner, but it never felt like a date anymore. Rachel would usually try to dress up and make it special, but Finn had stopped trying sometime in the past year.

"Miss Berry."

"Yes?" Rachel called out.

"There's someone here to see you," the voice on the other side of the door answered.

Rachel and Jesse looked at each other and the latter got up to answer it for her. However, when he opened the door, it was only Tina.

"Is everything okay?" Rachel asked, wondering why she was there."

"Everything is wonderful," Tina replied. "Jordan got tickets to see the show, so I thought I would come back and say hello."

"In that case," Rachel smiled, "I'll be sure to find you two after the show."

"Five minutes," someone said as they walked by.

"I should get out to my seat," Tina said. "Break a leg."

"Ready for another show?" Jesse asked.

"I'm always ready," Rachel said, playfully nudging her shoulder into his.

* * *

As Quinn walked around the kitchen, she could feel Brittany's eyes on her. She tried to ignore it as she made herself a salad, but she could tell that the blonde wanted to talk about something. She just hoped it wasn't about Santana wanting her out of their guest room because she had no idea where she would go if she left the Pierce-Lopez residence.

Sighing, she made sure she had put everything away and then grabbed a fork. She walked into the living room and sat down next to her friend, who was still watching her. When Brittany turned off the television, Quinn really knew she wanted to talk.

"Are you okay?" Brittany asked a few moments later.

Quinn shrugged. "I'm—angry, I guess."

"You're not sad?" Brittany inquired.

Quinn paused; she knew she should be sad, but she was more angry and hurt than anything. She was mad at Sam for doing this to her. For betraying her and making her feel stupid for trusting him and believing that he wanted what she wanted.

"Not really," Quinn finally replied.

"I know I'd be sad if San did that to me," Brittany remarked. "It would be like when we were in high school and she used to have sex with other people because she was scared of everyone finding out about us."

"Maybe I'll be sad when the anger goes away," Quinn said.

"What are you most angry about?" Brittany asked.

Quinn set her salad on the coffee table and curled one lung underneath her, sitting back. "That he ruined my plan."

"What plan?" Brittany asked.

"To get married—preferably to my high school sweetheart—by the time I'm twenty-five, have one child a year after the wedding, and another two years after the first is born. My career would be on track by then and we could finally buy a house instead of renting one."

Brittany frowned. "Is that really all you want?"

"What else should I want?" Quinn asked.

"I don't know," Brittany replied. "Don't you want more?"

"No," Quinn lied.

She did want more; she had wanted to go away to college and to travel, but she did what her parents wanted and went to a nearby school. She also wasn't even sure that she wanted children, but it had always been a part of the plan.

"But you're so smart," Brittany commented. "You can do anything."

"It's just always been what I'm supposed to do," Quinn said. "But then I walked into that apartment and everything was derailed. Sam screwed everything up."

"So make a new plan," Brittany replied simply. "Maybe it happened for a reason. Maybe that's not supposed to be your plan and something was trying to tell you that."

"What? Like fate?" Quinn asked.

"Yeah," Brittany replied.

She wanted to believe her; she wanted to believe that there was some reason for this, but all it felt like was a punishment. She wondered if maybe it was payback for how terrible she was to people in high school or for not being good enough. She spent her whole life not feeling good enough and this was just further proof that she wasn't. It took Sam years to finally propose—something her family always pointed out—and now she wasn't even getting married.

As she sat there, she heard keys in the door, followed by Santana saying, "It's dumbass day out there!"

"Are you okay, San?" Brittany asked, jumping up, and rushing over to her girlfriend.

"I'm fine, baby," Santana said, giving Brittany a kiss. "Two dumbasses almost hit me on my way to the car, though. One of them was that idiot girl from the gas station that always flirts with you. The bitch probably wants to off me, so she can finally get in your pants, but I have news for her if she thinks she can take out a Lopez that easily."

"Are you hungry?" Brittany asked. "I can heat you up some pizza."

"I thought I would cook, actually," Santana replied. "So put that salad down."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "What if I want salad?"

"Too bad," Santana retorted. "If I'm cooking, your ass is damn well going to eat it."

Quinn rolled her eyes; Santana was a good cook—a fact most people didn't know—but she tended to take forever and Quinn was hungry now. She would rather not have her friend bitching at her, though, so she put her salad on the table again.

* * *

"You wanted to speak with me?" Rachel said, walking up to James, the director of Living for the Weekend.

"I have some bad news and possibly some good," he said.

"Is everyone alright?" Rachel asked.

"As you know, Living for the Weekend is opening in London in a few weeks," James stated.

"Yes," Rachel replied.

"Well, the bad news is the girl set to play your role dropped out," James said. "They've tried everything to get her back, but she says she has a family emergency. I know you want to move on to other roles, but they want you. It would only be for a few months while they look for a replacement."

"They want me to go to London and perform on the West End?" Rachel asked, making sure she was understanding him correctly.

"Yes," he replied.

"Can I think about it?" Rachel asked.

"Of course," he said with a nod.

Rachel turned and walked down the hallway. As much as she wanted to play other roles, this was also a chance to do something different. She had never been to London before, and she had always hoped to perform on the West End stage one of these days. This was her chance to finally get to do that and cross another goal off her list.

The thought of going to London was a little daunting, though. She had never gone some place like that by herself. She left most of what she knew behind when she moved to New York, but Jesse was there, Finn came with her, and Kurt came not long after. If she went to London, she would be completely by herself for the duration of her stay. Still, it sounded like it could be fun, and Rachel Berry never backed down just because the thought frightened her a little. If she did, she wouldn't be where she was right now.

Pulling out her phone, immediately called Kurt and listened as the phone rang. Just as she thought it was going to go to his voice mail, he finally said, "Hello?"

"They asked me to go to London," Rachel stated.

"What?" Kurt asked. "London?"

"The girl who was going to open the show there dropped out and they want me to go," Rachel explained.

"Doesn't she have an understudy?" Kurt asked.

"I'm sure she does, but maybe they want someone a little more known for the opening," Rachel replied. "They asked me to go for a few months while they find a replacement."

Kurt was silent for a few moments before asking, "What did you say?"

"I said I would think about it," Rachel replied.

"Have you thought about it?" Kurt asked.

"I have and I think I'm going to go," Rachel said.

"You have always wanted to perform on the West End," Kurt commented.

"And this is my opportunity to do just that," Rachel replied. "Of course I'm going to take the night to think about it before I commit myself to anything, but I really think I'm going to go. There's really nothing holding me back; my relationship with Finn is over, so this is probably the best time to do it."

"It's good to know your friends aren't important," Kurt replied.

"You know I love you guys, but I think I need to do this," Rachel stated.

"I was only kidding," Kurt said. "I think going is a wonderful idea. Of course, I'm going to miss you, but it's only for a few months, right?"

"Right," Rachel replied.

"Then I say you should go for it!" Kurt said. "Go be a huge West End star. You've already concurred Broadway, so why not the rest of the world. I'm sure they will love you there as much as they love you here"

Rachel smiled; she knew Kurt would be enthusiastic about it and that's exactly what she wanted. The apprehension was already going away and she was becoming excited about the prospect of going. Part of her wanted to turn around and tell James she would go, but she knew she should still think about it a little even if her mind already seemed to be made up.

"Have you told Jesse and Tina?" Kurt asked.

"No," Rachel replied. "You were my first call. I'll tell Jesse this evening; he probably won't be very happy with me. He was already annoyed with me for leaving the show, but now I'm going to leave the country."

"I'm sure he'll understand," Kurt replied.

"Really?" Rachel asked with a laugh.

"Okay, no, but he'll get over it," Kurt said.

"I should let you go," Rachel said.

"I suppose I should get back to work," Kurt replied, not really sounding happy about it. "I'll see you after your show."

"Goodbye," Rachel said before hanging up.

As she walked down the street, she smiled to herself. Her life was changing—first breaking up with Finn and now this—but unlike a lot of other people, she enjoyed change. She already couldn't wait to begin the next chapter of her life. London would be an exciting opportunity for her, and she was already thinking of all the things she could do and see there.

* * *

Quinn looked around the apartment and sighed. She already couldn't see herself living here, but she politely followed behind the owner of the building and listened to him talk about it. It was missing everything she loved about the apartment she shared with Sam. There were almost no windows, the closet in the master bedroom was far too small, the paint on the wall was a terrible color, the kitchen and bathroom were both tiny, and it didn't have a place for a washer and dryer. The walls were a fixable problem even if she didn't relish the idea of painting the entire apartment, but it was hard to fix the other issues.

"What do you think?" the man asked, stopping in the middle of the living room.

"It sucks," Santana stated.

"It's not that bad," Brittany replied.

"I'll leave you ladies alone to talk about it," he said. "I'll be back after I make a few calls."

"This place sucks," Santana repeated when the owner left the apartment.

"I can't say I'm a fan, either," Quinn commented.

"That paint is hideous," Santana was, running her hand along the wall. "It looks like puke or baby shit."

"We can always help you paint," Brittany said with a shrug.

"It's not just that," Quinn said.

"Let's get out of here before he comes back," Santana said.

"Shouldn't we wait?" Brittany asked.

"He droned on so long about crap no one cares about that we're going to be late for the next place if we don't go," Santana replied.

"She's right," Quinn said, looking at the time on her phone before looking up at Brittany. "If it will make you feel better, I'll call him later and thank him for showing it to us."

"Okay," Brittany replied, looking reluctant.

"When we're done with the next place, we can all go to Breadstix," Santana said, looping her arm through her girlfriend's.

"Promise?" Brittany asked.

"Promise," Santana said, smiling until she turned to look at Quinn. "Let's move it."

Quinn scowled at Santana, but followed her nonetheless. They did need to hurry to the next apartment; they were supposed to meet the woman there in ten minutes. Luckily, traffic wasn't too bad. They got stuck behind someone going under the speed limit, but Santana honked at them until they finally pulled into a parking lot.

It was always embarrassing to be in a car with Santana driving, but it didn't make sense to take two cars, and Santana insisted on driving. Quinn fought her about it, but they were going to be late to the first apartment if they didn't leave, and since Santana was obviously not going to back down, Quinn had sighed and got into the car. The other woman was a terrible driver, and Quinn was worried she was going to get them all killed one day.

"Which one of you is Miss Fabray?" an older woman asked the moment they got out of the car.

"I am," Quinn said.

"June Prescott," the woman introduced herself. "We spoke on the phone."

Quinn introduced them all before following the woman into the apartment. She instantly felt a little better about this place than the past three, but she didn't have that immediate feeling of home like she felt with her other apartment. She wanted to feel that again, but she also knew she couldn't stay with Brittany and Santana forever. Neither of them had said anything, but she knew they must be getting tired of having her around all the time. Renting a place was a big commitment, though, and she didn't want to be trapped in a lease at a place she was going to end up hating.

The walls were actually a nice shade of green, there was a large window in the living room that overlooked the nearby park, there was a washer and dryer, and it had hardwood floors. It had everything she could possibly ask for in an apartment, but she still felt like it was missing something. Santana and Brittany were both quiet as they walked through the apartment—something extremely unusual for both of them—but she could tell they approved.

"I like it," Brittany finally commented.

Santana shrugged. "It's not bad."

"San likes it, too," Brittany remarked.

"I'll think about it and get back to you," Quinn said to the older woman.

"I can't guarantee it will still be available; I have a couple coming in an hour to view the apartment," the woman said. "If you would like to put in an application for it—"

"I'll think about it," Quinn said, interrupting her. "Thank you for your time."

"What the hell?" Santana said as Quinn walked into the hallway.

"I just—don't know," Quinn said, not wanting to get into her reason.

"That apartment is nicer than the place you had with Flounder," Santana stated.

Quinn sighed and turned around to look at her friends. "It was nice, yes, but I can't see myself living there. When I saw my last apartment, I just knew, and I don't get that feeling with this one."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Who the hell cares? Since when do you go with things based on feeling?"

"Maybe I should start," Quinn replied with a slightly raised voice.

"Whatever," Santana said, pushing past her.

"Come on," Brittany said, taking Quinn's hand, and leading her to the exit. "She'll be happier when she's at Breadstix."

* * *

"To Rachel—who is abandoning us for London," Jesse said, holding up his glass.

"I'm not abandoning anyone," Rachel replied with a shake of her head. "It's only for a few months and then I will be right back in New York. You probably won't even notice I'm gone."

"Doubtful," Jesse said, giving her the evil eye.

As expected, he wasn't happy to hear she was leaving the country. She knew he would get over it—he always did—but when he was unhappy, he liked to let people know it. Rachel was used to it, though, so just ignored his little tantrums. Instead, she was focusing on the fact that she would be in London before she knew it. It had taken all her willpower not to call James immediately to let him know she was accepting the offer in case she changed her mind overnight. But she didn't change her mind and called first thing in the morning.

"To Rachel, who is getting to live her dream," Kurt said.

Rachel smiled and clinked her glass to Kurt and Tina's, but Jesse was already drinking out of his. She really hoped he wasn't like this all night; it would definitely bring down everyone's mood and she didn't want that. This was a time to celebrate and she wanted to have fun with her friends. All of her friends.

"I promise I will be back before you know it," Rachel said, grabbing on to Jesse's arm. "I know you will miss me, and I'll miss you too, but this is a wonderful opportunity for me, and as my friend, you should be happy that I'm getting to live my dream. Don't tell me you wouldn't have accepted the offer if it was given to you."

Jesse sighed. "Fine, yes, I would have."

"I know you would have," Rachel stated. "So be happy for me."

"Another round of drinks?" Kurt asked.

"Most of us still have our first," Tina pointed out.

Kurt shrugged. "It's never too soon to get another."

Rachel laughed as he flagged down the bartender and turned to her other two friends. "You guys could come visit me, you know."

"I do have some vacation time," Tina commented.

"It would be impossible for me and you know it," Jesse replied.

"You could speak with James," Rachel said, shrugging. "I'm sure he would give you a few days off to come over. You do have a wonderful understudy."

"He is not wonderful," Jesse argued.

"You just don't like him because he's going out with Sarah," Rachel remarked.

"So?" Jesse asked.

"So, that doesn't mean he's bad," Rachel stated.

"Here," Kurt said, turning around to hand them their drinks.

"So, when are you leaving?" Tina asked.

"June twenty-seventh," Rachel replied. "Living for the Weekend opens July first, so I'll have a few days to get acclimated and see a few sights."

"Isn't that cutting it a bit close?" Kurt asked.

"Well, my last performance here is the twenty-forth, so I can't leave much earlier than I am," Rachel replied. "Plus, I've been assured that everything is nearly identical, so there really isn't much need to rehearse. Of course, I will have to a few times to make sure we are all up to par, but it's nothing like when we began the show here."

Rachel just hoped the cast there was as good as the one in New York. She highly enjoyed working with all of them and they were an incredibly talented group of people. She especially hoped whoever her leading man was could match her voice like Jesse did. She was told they were excellent, and she just hoped they were telling the truth. She also hoped that she fit it; when people first met her, they were known to get the wrong impression, and she knew how miserable it could be when she didn't get along with the rest of the cast and crew. It happened with her first Broadway show and it was the worst four months of her life.

"Since we are out celebrating, I demand a dance with everyone tonight," Rachel declared. "I don't care if you find a cute girl." She looked at Jesse. "You're going to dance with me at least twice over the course of the night."

"Let's go, then," Tina said, offering Rachel her hand.

Rachel took her hand and they began walking to the dance floor. Kurt and Jesse followed them and the four began dancing just as the song was ending. It quickly transitioned into a new song that happened to be one of her favorites. She smiled widely as Jesse spun her around and then spun her back, right into Kurt's arms.

"Are you excited?" Kurt asked.

"Of course!" Rachel replied. "It's something I've always wanted to do. I'm single now, and with nothing holding me back, it seemed like too great a chance to pass up."

"We're going to miss you," Kurt said.

"I'm going to miss you, too," Rachel replied.

"Don't be surprised if I move my stuff into your room," Kurt said, smirking.

Rachel scoffed. "You will not! I won that room fair and square, and just because I'm leaving for a few months, it doesn't mean it goes to you."

"I think you forfeit it when you leave the country," Kurt said, shaking his head.

"Nothing is forfeited until all belongings are moved out of the room," Rachel stated.

"We'll see," Kurt said lightly.

"Kurt Hummel, you are not stealing my room!" Rachel said, stomping her foot, which only made her friend laugh.

She really hoped he was joking, but something told her she would come home to find their rooms switched. Of course, she would promptly make him move everything back exactly where she had it all on his own; she was already making a mental note to take a picture of her room before she left.

* * *

Quinn turned off the television and sighed to herself. She hated feeling useless, which is exactly how she'd been feeling lately. She used to spend her evenings cleaning or cooking or doing laundry, but she had none of that to do here. Brittany surprisingly enjoying cleaning—she would blast music and dance around while doing it—and she didn't have nearly as much laundry now that she only had to do hers. Now she didn't even have someone to go out with in the evening or just sit around with. Brittany would usually invite her to go out with her and Santana, but Quinn didn't want to intrude.

She forgot how lonely she could get; she'd been with Sam for eight years and it was hard to suddenly have no one. It reminded her of when she was a child, before she moved to Lima. At the time, she didn't have any friends except one girl, who would only talk to her when other kids weren't around because she didn't want anyone to know she associated with her. It hurt, but it was better than having no friends.

So much had changed since then, but at the same time, it felt like nothing had. Even when she was in high school and was the most popular girl in school, she still felt just as alone as she did when she spent hours in her room reading. It had always been her favorite past time; becoming immersed in a book was the one thing she could do to forget her life for a moment.

It was frustrating that she had no idea what she was going to do with her life now. Santana had been harassing her for the past two days to put in an application for the last apartment she looked at, but Quinn was still hesitant. She knew she was probably being stupid, but she just couldn't see herself living in it. Yes, it was a nice apartment, but it wasn't _her_ nice apartment. There were still other places to look at, and she hoped one of them would be the one. Until then, Santana would just have to deal with her living there for a little while longer.

When the door opened, she hoped it was Brittany, but when she looked over her shoulder, Santana was standing there, muttering something under her breath. She looked like she was soaked from head to toe and Quinn had to resist the urge to laugh at her even if she sort of reminded her of a drowned rat. She already looked annoyed and the last thing Quinn needed was her friend angry with her.

"Is it raining?" Quinn unnecessarily asked, trying to hide her smirk.

Santana rolled her eyes. "No shit." She threw her umbrella to the ground. "Damn useless piece of shit."

"When's Brittany coming home?" Quinn asked.

"Late," Santana replied. "She has a private lesson with some engaged couple, who don't want to make complete fools of themselves at their wedding."

Quinn hummed as she frowned. Santana's words just reminded her of the fact that she wasn't going to get to do that. She and Sam were supposed to take lessons from Brittany—more for him than for her—but that wasn't going to happen now. None of it was going to happen.

"Did you have another productive evening moping in from of the TV?" Santana asked, sitting next to her, flipping her hair so it splashed Quinn with water.

"I'm not moping," Quinn said with a roll of her eyes. "I was thinking."

"About what a loser you've become?" Santana asked.

Quinn couldn't help but roll her eyes again. "Why are we friends?"

"Because I keep it real," Santana said, shrugging.

"No," Quinn narrowed her eyes, "that's definitely not it."

"Maybe you're masochistic," Santana suggested.

"Apparently," Quinn commented.

"Fine." Santana rolled her eyes. "What were you thinking about?"

Quinn looked at her, cocking her eyebrow.

"I'll be nice—or at least as nice as I can be," Santana said, holding her hands up in surrender.

Quinn sighed; she didn't know if she wanted to talk to Santana about this, but maybe her friend would give her a little perspective and keep the abuse to a minimum. This was Santana, though, so it was doubtful that she could be nice—or Santana's version of nice—for too long.

"I don't know what to do," Quinn admitted. "This wasn't supposed to happen."

"Right, your 'plan'," Santana said, using air quotes. "Britts told me about your little talk."

"Then I guess there's no need to talk," Quinn remarked.

"Not so fast," Santana replied. "You got the Britt talk, now you're getting the Santana talk. You want my advice?"

"No," Quinn answered.

"Too bad," Santana replied. "Get over it. Get over Splash, get over this whole plan of yours—just get over it. You can't plan how your life is going to go. Do you think I planned on falling in love with Britt? No, but it turned out to be the best thing in my life. Stop trying to plan out your life according to how your parents think it should go. Figure out what _you _want. Preferably in your own apartment because I'm sick of finding you on my couch every day."

"Should I remind you of that time you and Brittany split up for two months and you crashed on my couch the whole time?" Quinn asked.

"Dammit," Santana mumbled. "Fine, but you can't live here forever. It's cramping my sex life; this couch is one of my favorite places to—"

"I get your point," Quinn said, interrupting her friend, and suddenly never wanting to sit on the couch again.

"Look, I know you don't know what to do with your life now, but do something," Santana stated. "I know your parents are into that shit where a woman has to have a man or whatever they spout, but I know you know that's not true." Santana stood from the couch before looking down at Quinn. "I gotta say I'm glad Sam cheated on you."

"Thanks," Quinn said, rolling her eyes.

"He wasn't good enough for you," Santana said, uncharacteristically serious and sentimental.

Quinn couldn't help but smile softly. "Thank you."

Santana shrugged. "Now that the mushy junk is over, get off your ass and help me fix dinner." Santana smirked. "My Britts is going to be hungry and she needs her energy for the night I have planned."

"Please never tell me things like that," Quinn requested as she scrunched up her face in disgust.

* * *

There was a knock on the door and Rachel almost called out to Kurt to get it, but then she remembered he was still gone to the store. So, she quickly folded the shirt in her hands and set it on her bed before hurrying to the door. She wondered if maybe Tina or Kurt had forgotten their keys, but when she opened the door, Finn was the one standing on their welcome mat.

"Hello, Finn," she greeted.

She hadn't seen him since the day she ended things with him; they actually hadn't even spoken since then. It had been two weeks, which was probably the longest they had ever gone without speaking. Even when they broke up in the past, they still remained in touch. She wanted to remain friends with him, but she was also trying to give him space. Since it was her decision to break up with him, she didn't want to make it worse on him.

"I came to get the rest of my stuff," Finn said, shuffling awkwardly.

"Oh, okay," Rachel said, stepping aside. "Would you like me to help you pack?"

Finn shrugged. "If you want."

Rachel nodded and followed him into the bedroom they'd shared for the past few years. She immediately went to the closet and pulled out a suitcase she no longer had any use for. When she looked over her shoulder, Finn was watching her, but quickly looked away.

"Kurt told me you're going to London," he commented.

"Yes, the girl who was going to do Living for the Weekend dropped out and since I was ending my run here, they asked if I would be interested," Rachel replied.

Finn smiled. "That's cool; I know you've always wanted to do that."

"Yes," Rachel agreed. "I'm a little nervous, but I'm also very excited." She cleared her throat. "When do you leave to go back to Ohio?"

"Few days," he replied.

"Kurt said you're going to work at Burt's shop," Rachel said.

"Yeah," Finn said with a shrug. "It's not like I wanna do it my whole life, but it'll be okay for now. Maybe then Burt'll find someone else to take it over."

"You're not interested in it?" Rachel asked.

"Not really," Finn replied. "I want to figure out what I want to do, you know? It's hard to do when you're working a job you hate or—"

"Living in a city you hate," Rachel finished for him.

"Yeah," he mumbled.

Neither of them spoke as Finn grabbed his clothes from the bed—the ones Rachel had just washed—and Rachel put the suitcase on the floor. Finn haphazardly folded them before throwing them into the suitcase. There weren't many clothes left since he had taken most with him when he left; really all that was left was what had been dirty and a few odds and ends in the closet. She grabbed everything she saw from inside and hesitated when her hand landed on one of his hoodies. She wore it more than he did—it was her favorite thing to wear in the winter—but it _was _his, so she pulled it out with everything else.

As she folded everything, he looked up and with a slight frown, said, "You don't want that?"

"Well, it's yours and I didn't want to assume anything," Rachel replied.

"You keep it," Finn said before giving her a lopsided smile. "It looks better on you than me. Besides, you love that thing."

"Thank you," Rachel said, holding it close for a moment, and then walking back to the closet to hang it back where it was. "What else do you have left?"

"That's it," Finn said, looking around. "I pretty much got everything else."

Rachel nodded, not really knowing what to say. As Finn zipped up the suitcase and grabbed a couple other things he'd set on the bed, she stood at the edge of the room and watched. There were so many things she wanted to say, but at the same time, there was nothing. After being with someone for so long, what was there to really say when things ended? She was afraid of hurting him by saying the wrong thing when she really just wanted to make things okay between them.

"I'll get out of here," Finn said, lifting the suitcase off the bed.

"I'll walk you out," Rachel said, clasping her hands behind her back.

She followed behind him and he walked directly to the door. He opened the door a crack and the paused, shutting it, and turning toward her. Rachel looked up at him, knowing him well enough to know that he wanted to say something. So, instead of prodding him as she usually would, she waited.

"Look, I know we broke up and everything, but I don't blame you or anything," Finn finally said, looking at her with his brows slightly furrowed.

"And if I hurt you, I'm sorry," Rachel said. "It was never my intention."

"I know," Finn replied.

"I knew you were never happy here and I will never be happy anywhere else," Rachel explained.

Finn nodded. "And you're right. It just sucks because I love you."

"And I love you, but I don't think we're right for each other," Rachel replied. "I think we've both known that for a long time, but we were both too afraid to admit it."

"Can we still be friends?" Finn asked.

"Of course," Rachel replied. "You can call me any time."

Finn smiled and leaned down, giving her a hug. "Have fun in London. Send me a postcard or something."

"I will," Rachel said, pulling away. "I hope you find your dreams in Ohio."

Finn nodded and gave her another smile before opening the door. With one last look back, he walked into the hallway, shutting the door behind him. Rachel took a deep breath, looked down, and smiled to herself. She hadn't even realized it had been bothering her, but it felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders now that she knew Finn had no ill feelings toward her.

* * *

As Quinn looked around the restaurant, she wondered where Brittany and Santana were. She was late after getting stuck at work, so her friends should already be there. The restaurant was fairly crowded, but not so crowded that she shouldn't be able to find them. Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she sent a quick text to both of them to ask where they were. She continued to stand near the front, looking at her phone every few moments, but not reply ever came.

"Are you Quinn Fabray?"

Quinn looked up to find a man standing in front of her with a smile on his face. She had never seen the guy before and wondered how he knew her name. "Who are you?"

"I'm Mike," he said, holding out his hand. "I'm a friend of Brittany's. I'm a dancer; we met at the studio."

He looked harmless enough—nice in fact—but she wondered what he was doing here and why he was talking to her.

"By the look on your face, I'm going to assume Brittany didn't tell you that you were meeting me," he said, giving her another smile.

"No, she didn't," Quinn replied, feeling annoyed with her friends. "Actually, I thought I was meeting her and Santana here for dinner." Quinn sighed. "I'm going to kill them."

"Don't be too hard on Brittany," Mike said. "I think she's been worried about you and she was probably trying to help."

"Yes, but I doubt that's what Santana was doing," Quinn said, rolling her eyes.

"I've only met her once, so I really can't say," Mike commented. "But she didn't leave me with the impression that she's very caring. She was a little scary, actually; she accused me of wanting to have sex with Brittany."

"That sounds like Santana," Quinn said, shaking her head.

"I know you weren't expecting to have dinner with me, but what do you say?" Mike asked. "I'm sure it'll make Brittany happy."

Quinn sighed. She didn't really want to have dinner with this guy she didn't know, but she threw caution to the wind and nodded. He smiled at her, motioning her to go on. She walked into the middle of the restaurant, finding their table with his guidance. He pulled her seat out for her, and she knew she was going to have to make it clear that she wasn't interested in anything happening between them.

"Look, I just broke off my engagement," Quinn stated.

"I know," Mike said. "Brittany told me everything. I know you're not ready to begin dating—neither am I—but I agreed to this because I knew Brittany would keep trying to set both of us up with someone. I figured this way, we're on the same page and there will be no hurt feelings."

"Oh," Quinn said, not expecting that. "Okay then."

"My girlfriend cheated on me, too," Mike admitted. "I had no idea; I thought she was the one, but out of nowhere, she told me she was leaving me for someone else."

"I'm sorry," Quinn said, knowing exactly what he was feeling.

"I was actually going to propose," Mike continued. "I had the ring, I asked her parents for permission, and I was just waiting for the perfect time." Mike looked at her. "I can imagine it would be even worse if I'd given her that ring. I'm sorry you're going through what you're going through."

"Were you angry when you found out?" Quinn asked.

"Not really angry," Mike replied. "I was hurt and sad and wondered if I had done something wrong." He laughed lightly. "I'm not ashamed to admit that I cried myself to sleep a few nights. I guess I'm a little angry now that it's had the time to sink in. Is that what you're feeling? Because I don't think there's any one right or wrong way to feel in a situation like this."

Quinn opened her mouth, but quickly closed it, remembering she was talking with a complete stranger. She didn't know this guy and for all she knew, every word out of his mouth could be a complete lie. He seemed genuine, but she had been known to be wrong about people in the past. Sam being one of those people. As a general rule, Quinn didn't trust anyone because she knew most people were just out for themselves. Of course, she often behaved in the same way, which is probably why she was so mistrusting of people. She knew people would do anything to get what they wanted because she had done many things she wasn't proud of if it meant she could have what she wanted.

"I'm sorry," Mike said, shaking his head. "I talk too much sometimes."

"It's fine," Quinn mumbled.

"I'll get our waitress," Mike said, giving her a smile.

She watched as he flagged down their waiter and then pulled her phone out of her pocket. There was still no reply from Brittany or Santana, so she sent off a second message to let them know she was less than pleased with their little stunt. She couldn't believe they did this to her and she was definitely going to have a few things to say to them when she got back to their apartment.

* * *

As Rachel walked into the cafe a few blocks away from her theater, she looked around for the man Jesse vaguely described to her. She just hoped the guy she was meeting knew what she looked like because there were far too many dark haired men in the room. She stood there for a few moments before a guy stood from a table only a few feet away and approached her.

"Are you Rachel?" he asked.

"I am," Rachel replied with a smile. "I presume you're Jesse's friend."

"Ian," he said, smiling back. "I hope you don't mind, but I grabbed us a table."

"That's perfectly fine," Rachel said, following him, and sitting down in the seat he pulled out for her. "So, how do you and Jesse know each other?"

"We worked on this film together a while ago," Ian replied.

"Do you mean Just Us?" Rachel asked.

"Yeah," Ian replied. "I wrote it."

"Oh," Rachel said, smiling. "That was a very good script."

Ian smiled. "You read it?"

"Yes," she said, taking a sip of water. "He showed me the script one day. It was unfortunate that the movie never got made; I was looking forward to watching it."

"I've seen you in Living for the Weekend," Ian commented. "I asked Jesse about you at the time, but he said you had a boyfriend."

Rachel nodded. "We recently ended our relationship."

"How recent?" Ian asked.

"A few weeks ago," Rachel admitted.

"He told me you'd been together a long time," Ian remarked. "Are you sure you're ready to start going out with guys."

"If I wasn't ready, I wouldn't be here," Rachel replied.

He looked skeptical, but Rachel wasn't going to try to convince him; if he didn't believe her, that was his problem. However, she didn't like that she felt as if she was being judged by this guy who had just met her. She was trying to put it out of her mind, though. They were just getting to know each other—she had only known him for a matter of minutes—and she tried to give people the benefit of the doubt.

Luckily, they were interrupted from having to speak when the waiter came over. But Rachel hadn't even looked at the menu, so she quickly grabbed it and looked to see if they had any vegan options. Most of the time when she came to places such as this, she ended up eating a salad, but they had a few things to choose from. She wondered if Jesse had warned Ian she was vegan or if he just happened to choose a cafe with more than just salad.

"Sorry," he said when his phone buzzed. "It's probably work."

"It's fine," Rachel replied. "I know how that can be."

Rachel picked at her napkin as she waited for him to be done with whatever he was doing. Part of her wanted to pull out her own phone to pass the time, but it seemed rude—even if he was busy on his. She watched him for a moment as his thumbs moved across the surface of the device, and realized that Jesse did a good job picking her blind date. At least when it came to him physically. He was good looking, but not in a completely obvious way.

One of the first things she always noticed about a person was their eyes and he had nice eyes. He also reminded her a little bit of Finn, but he was more mature looking. He had a stronger jawline with a bit of stubble, whereas Finn always had a boyish quality to him. She never minded, though, because she could look at him and always see the boy she first fell in love with. She did always wish he would change his wardrobe a little bit, however, but to that day, he still wore a t-shirt and jeans anytime he wasn't working.

"Sorry," he apologized again, putting his phone on the table.

"It's not a problem," Rachel said, only half meaning it.

"Where were we?" Ian asked.

Rachel wasn't going to say that he was commenting on whether or not she was ready to date, so she asked, "Where did you grow up?"

"Connecticut," he replied. "Are you from Ohio? I know Jesse said you'd known each other since high school."

"Yes," Rachel replied with a slight smile. "We were in show choir together. He was a few years ahead of me, though. After he graduated, we lost contact, but when I moved here, we ran into each other at an audition and became friends."

"You weren't friends before?" Ian asked.

"Not really," Rachel replied. "We dated briefly my sophomore year, but that didn't last long. We were probably rivals more than friends since we were always competing for who would get the solos at our Glee competitions. I was actually glad when he left because I could have them all to myself." Rachel laughed. "Once we were no longer in direct competition, we discovered we had quite a bit in common."

Ian sighed when his phone began buzzing again; he picked up his phone, looking at the screen, and said, "I have to take this."

He stood from the table and Rachel felt like throwing up her hands. She knew it was probably important if it was work, but it didn't make it any less frustrating for her. It was hard to get to know a person when their mind was elsewhere, and even more hard when they weren't even at the table.

Sighing, she pulled her own phone out of her purse and sent a text to Kurt. It wasn't long before she got a reply back with Kurt chastising Ian's manners. If there was one thing Kurt hated, it was people being ill-mannered on dates, and being on the phone was at the top of his list. She quickly got a second one from him that asked if she wanted him to call with some emergency, which made Rachel smile. She always appreciated that her friends had her back even when it was small things like getting her out of a bad date.

After telling him there was no need to, she set her phone back in her bag and waited. As much as she liked to give people the benefit of the doubt and tried to be understanding about things, she knew this date was going nowhere. But she had already ordered her food and it would be equally rude of her to leave now. So, she would just try to make it through the rest of the date and then remember to never let Jesse set her up with anyone ever again.

* * *

Quinn walked down the supermarket aisle, looking for the things on the list Santana made. She didn't know what the hell half of the things were and had to spend far too long looking at each item. But when Santana wrote down things like 'cookies in the yellow box', it was hard to know what she was talking about. Slowly, she was making her way down the list, but she still had a few things to go. She needed to figure out what cereal she was asking for and what 'cheese with red' was.

As she looked at the cheese section, she sighed. There was cheese in red packages, but there was also cheese encased in red wax, and she didn't know what type Santana wanted. She'd already tried calling once and got no response, so she sent her a text. She didn't figure she would get an answer, but it was worth a try. Her friend was making dinner that night and wouldn't be happy if she didn't have everything she needed. Quinn regretted volunteering to do the shopping, but since her friends were nice enough to let her continue staying there, she figured it was the least she could. She just didn't know it was going to be this difficult.

"Quinn!"

She instantly tensed at the sound of Sam's voice. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath; she wished he would just walk away, but she knew him well enough to know that wasn't likely. Sam didn't like people being angry with him, so the fact that she had left like she did was probably killing him. That wasn't her problem, though; she didn't care if it was bothering him. This was all his doing and he would just have to live with it. She wasn't going to try to make him feel better by saying she forgave him because she didn't and she doubted she ever would.

"Can we talk?" Sam asked when she didn't say anything.

"No," Quinn replied.

"Please just give me a couple minutes," Sam begged. "Let me explain."

"I don't need an explanation," Quinn stated. "I need you to leave me alone."

"Look, I know you don't owe me anything, but please," Sam said, walking up and stopping right next to her. "I promise I'll never try to talk to you again. If I see you out, I'll walk the other way."

Quinn sighed; she didn't want to talk to him—or listen to him—but if a few minutes meant she would never have to listen to him begging her again, she guessed she would do it.

"Two minutes," Quinn stated. "And then you never speak to me again."

Sam nodded. "Deal."

Quinn pushed her cart to a slightly less crowded aisle and crossed her arms as she turned to him. "Two minutes."

"Okay," Sam said, running his hand through his hair. "Look, I know I messed up and I'm sorry, okay? I swear that was the first time I ever did anything like that. She just—she was saying all these things and things between us had been weird lately with us planning the wedding and I just—I messed up. I didn't mean to hurt you and I'm not asking you to forgive me. I just wanted you to know that I'd never done that before, so it's not like everything was a lie, you know? I love you and I hate that I hurt you like that." Sam shrugged. "I'm just sorry and I wanted you to know that. I hope one day you can forgive me and maybe we can get back to where we were because I still wanna marry you."

"Is that all?" Quinn coldly asked.

"Yeah," Sam replied.

Quinn nodded and turned around, leaving Sam without saying another word. She didn't want his apology. She didn't care if he was feeling bad about it or that it was the only time it happened. And if she ever did forgive him, she was definitely never going to get back together with him. If he thought that would ever happen, he didn't know her very well.

Abandoning her quest to figure out what cheese Santana wanted, she grabbed three different kinds and headed for the checkout. Luckily, she didn't see Sam anymore; she didn't know if he was still in the store, but if he was, he was smart enough to stay out of her way.

The drive to Santana and Brittany's was tense; she was angry that Sam thought she would just forgive him one day and that they could go back to the way things were like everything was normal. She wished she had never given him those two minutes because she really hadn't wanted to hear anything that came out of his mouth. How could she even trust him? He may have said that was the first time anything like that had happened, but it was hard to believe it. What were the chances she would come home early the one and only time it happened when she never came home early?

She shook her head. Maybe Brittany was right; maybe it was some type of screwed up fate that wanted her to see Sam cheating on her. As much as she believed in God and things happening for a reason, she still found it hard to believe that there was some master scheme for her to walk into the apartment that day.

When she pulled into the driveway, she turned the car off, grabbed what was in the seat next to her, and got out, but didn't bother getting the groceries out of the trunk. Santana would just have to get them if she wanted them. All Quinn wanted to do was go take a nice, long bath and settle down with a good book to forget this day.

* * *

"Do you know where they keep the luggage?" Tina asked.

"I think it's over there," Kurt said, pointing to the left.

"I think it's on the second floor," Rachel said.

"Oh, it is," Tina replied. "It's near the bedding, remember?"

"Why did you ask if you already knew?" Kurt asked.

Tina shrugged. "I forgot."

"Why are we even doing this?" Kurt asked as they began walking toward the escalator. "You already have several suitcases; I'm sure you won't need more than three."

"This isn't about the number of suitcases," Rachel replied. "This is about a new beginning, and I want new luggage to go along with that. Besides, they're starting to look a little worn and I would rather not have to traipse through London with them in their current condition."

Really, the ones she had would do just fine, but she quite liked shopping for things like this; it was getting her more excited for her trip. After they were done there, she was going to stop into the bookstore on her way home. She knew she could find all the information on the internet, but she thought it might be a good idea to have a book to carry around. She didn't want to be one of those tourists who walked around the streets with them, but it would be nice if she ever got lost, which was bound to happen. It was a big city, after all, and it wouldn't be the first time she was lost in a city.

"These are on sale," Kurt commented, passing by some suitcases at the bottom of the escalator.

Rachel shook her head. "No black and no navy. Everyone has those two colors and I'll never be able to find them on that little conveyor belt thing at the airport."

"I doubt they will have pink in adult sizes," Kurt remarked.

"They may," Tina said.

"I don't necessarily want pink," Rachel replied. "Just something—not quite as boring as navy or black. Although, yes, pink would be ideal. It would certainly be easy to find."

As they got to the second floor, Kurt led them to the luggage, which was quite a huge section. Without saying a word, the three split up; Rachel walked down the left wall in search of something she would like. As Kurt suspected, she didn't see any pink, but there were a few colors she liked and was keeping in mind. She didn't want anything cheap—she knew it would fall apart in no time—but she also didn't want to spend a small fortune on something she was likely to only use a few times a year.

"This one's pink," Kurt said, walking around the corner.

"It's also a foot tall and probably for a child," Rachel commented.

Kurt shrugged with a slight smirk on his face. "I'm sure you could use it; you're probably the right height."

"Kurt Hummel," Rachel put her hands on her hips, "I do not appreciate jokes about my size and you know it." Rachel huffed and turned around. "What do you think about this one?"

"I didn't think you liked blue," Kurt said, putting the pink, flowery suitcase down.

"But it's not blue blue," Rachel replied.

Kurt shrugged. "You're the one using it."

"How about this," Tina said, walking up, wheeling a purple one behind her.

"Is there a set?" Rachel asked.

Rachel followed Tina to the other side and instantly knew she had found her bags. They were purple, so they would stand out a little more, but no obnoxiously so. After paying for them and arguing about who would roll them down the street—Kurt lost and eventually took them—they made their way to the bookstore.

"I still can't believe I'm leaving everything to the last minute," Rachel said as she walked through the door. "My flight is in thirteen days and I haven't planned anything!"

"Maybe you could be spontaneous and not plan it," Tina suggested.

Kurt laughed loudly. "Have you met her? She has to plan everything."

"That isn't true," Rachel said with a huff.

"Sweetie, I love you, but you know it's true," Kurt replied. "Remember our trip to Boston a few years ago? You planned everything down to the second."

"Okay, that is an exaggeration and you know it," Rachel argued.

"Fine—the minute," Kurt amended.

"It's not a bad thing to want to be prepared," Rachel stated. "You never know when you're going to get to go back to a place and I just like to make sure I see everything I want to see. And this is London, so there is a lot to see. I would hate to miss something because who knows if I will ever get this opportunity again."

"You're going to be there two months," Kurt reminded her. "I doubt seeing everything will be a problem. I'm sure you'll be bored in no time."

"I very much doubt that," Rachel replied.

"There's a lot of books," Tina said when they stepped in front of the travel section.

"They're probably all the same," Kurt said, picking one up. "Just pick something."

"Why are you in such a hurry?" Rachel asked.

"I'm not," Kurt replied, but Rachel could tell he was lying.

Rachel narrowed her eyes as she looked at him. "You are."

"Fine," Kurt sighed, "I have a date tonight."

Rachel gasped. "And you weren't going to tell us!"

"I'm telling you now," Kurt stated. "Now pick one."

Rachel smiled and carefully went through each book. Not only did she want to find the perfect one, but it was also fun to torture her friend a little for not being truthful with them. In the end, she got two; a thin one that mostly contained maps of different parts of the city and another that was quite detailed about all the sites to see. And as they finally made their way home, she couldn't wait to begin reading; she was getting more and more excited about this trip and was very much looking forward to making her itinerary, which she planned to start on that night.

* * *

As Quinn looked around the club, she was unimpressed. She didn't understand why Brittany and Santana liked to come to this place, but they seemed like they were enjoying themselves. Even Santana was smiling as she danced with her girlfriend in the middle of the floor. Several people—mostly guys—were ogling them, but they were oblivious to it. Santana only had eyes for Brittany and the blonde was in her element in the dance floor.

Quinn, on the other hand, was bored. She had turned down three guys within the first forty-five minutes of stepping through the door. None of them were up to her standards and were delusional if they thought otherwise. She didn't even want to come, but Brittany looked sad when she told her no, so she relented. She was fairly certain Brittany did it on purpose, knowing she would agree to it.

"Can I get you another drink?" a guy asked, coming into Quinn's line of sight.

"No thanks," Quinn said, knowing if she drank much more, she would start to lose some of her judgment.

"What about a dance?" he asked.

Quinn looked him up and down; his clothes were nice—expensive looking—and he was much better groomed than the last guy. He was a little preppy looking for her, be he was definitely attractive. Despite all that, she was still about to say no, but then he smiled and offered her his hand. Taking a deep breath, she took his hand, figuring what the hell. She wasn't looking for anything, but at least it would pass a bit of time.

When she passed by her friends, Santana smirked at her, and when Quinn rolled her eyes, the other woman made an obscene gesture. At least once a day, she would ask herself why she was still friends with Santana, and this was another one of those times.

"Do you know her?" the guy asked as they began to dance.

"Unfortunately," Quinn replied. "She's one of my best friends. Her and the blonde."

The guy laughed. "She acts just like my best friend. He likes to embarrass me anytime I talk to a girl."

"Is he here tonight?" Quinn asked.

"Thankfully, no," he replied. "You won't have to hear him tell the story of how I got syphilis. Which I don't have, by the way; he just likes to tell girls that I do and then hit on them."

"Sounds like a wonderful friend," Quinn sarcastically said.

He shrugged. "He has his good side just like I assume your friend does."

"You don't know Santana," Quinn deadpanned.

They danced through the remainder of the song and into the next one. He was an okay dancer—not great, but better than Sam had been. At least he wasn't stepping on her feet and he was keeping a respectable distance. The last time they went somewhere, Quinn had finally agreed to a dance with one guy and he tried to cop a feel. After slapping him, she finally insisted they go home; once Santana found out what he did, she and Brittany practically had to drag her out of the bar as she shouted at him. Sometimes Santana could be quite protective over her even if she didn't really need it.

"Come on, Q," Santana said, grabbing her by the arm. "Don't worry; I'll have her back in a few minutes."

Santana cocked her eyebrow, daring the guy to argue with her. When he didn't Santana pulled her toward the side of the room.

"I can walk, you know," Quinn said, extracting her arm from Santana's grip.

"Shut it and come with me," Santana snapped.

"Why should I?" Quinn asked.

"Juro a Dios," Santana said, shaking her head. "Do you have to argue with me about everything?"

"Do you have to be so rude about everything?" Quinn retorted.

"I thought you might like to know that your slim of an ex-fiancé is out there," Santana stated. "Britts saw him and I just thought I should warn you because I'm such a good friend, but if I'd know you were gonna be such a bitch about it, I would have let you figure it out yourself."

Quinn scowled as Santana marched away; she didn't know where Santana got off calling her a bitch. There was probably no bigger bitch in town than Santana. And the fact that Sam was there just pissed her off even more. Quinn wondered if he would leave like he said he would or if he would stick around. She wasn't going to leave, though; she didn't want him to think he had any effect on her.

"Is everything okay?" the guy she'd been dancing with asked when she walked into the small hall that led to the bathroom.

"Fine," Quinn lied, clenching her jaw.

"Your friend looked mad," he observed.

"That's just her face," Quinn stated.

He nodded and gave her a hopeful smile. "Would you care to dance some more?"

"Not really," Quinn said, causing his face to fall ever so slightly.

Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around the back of his neck and crashed their lips together. The kiss was different; his lips were rougher than Sam's and he had a bit of stubble that was scratchy against her skin. She ignored it, though, turning off the part of her brain that told her it was wrong. She didn't know how long she was there before he said that his place was nearby. It was then that she realized what she was doing and promptly took off without an explanation.

She didn't even care that she didn't tell Brittany and Santana she was leaving or that they had given her a ride. She also didn't care that it was late or that it was a long walk to the apartment. She just needed to get out of there and she hoped the long walk would help clear her head.

* * *

"Why did we watch this movie?" Tina asked, handing the bowl of popcorn to Rachel

"I don't know," she said with a sniffle. "Ask Kurt; he's the one who picked it."

"I didn't know it was going to be this sad," Kurt said before blowing his nose.

"Someone turn it off; even the credit music is making me want to cry," Rachel said.

Kurt did as she said and wiped his eyes. "We need to watch something less depressing now."

"Agreed," Rachel replied.

They had decided to have a quiet night in, but she was suddenly regretting it. Kurt had chosen a movie none of them had seen and it turned out to be the saddest movie in existence. They all cried during half of it and now Rachel felt exhausted from all the crying. That was not how she wanted to spend the night—one of the final Saturday nights she would have with them for a few months—and even though she was tired, she was determined to stay up long enough to watch a second movie.

"Give me that," Tina said, taking the remote control from Kurt. "You're terrible at choosing movies."

"One bad movie doesn't make me terrible," Kurt said.

"I'm sorry, Kurt, but I have to agree with Tina," Rachel replied. "If you'll recall a few weeks ago—"

"Okay, I have bad luck," Kurt conceded, interrupting her. "Blame Netflix; their descriptions are deceitful. It should not be in the romantic comedy section if the love interest dies halfway through."

"What about this movie?" Tina asked.

"Ten Inch Hero?" Kurt asked. "Are we watching porn now?"

"I don't think it's porn," Tina replied.

"Does Netflix even have porn?" Rachel asked.

"I don't think so," Tina said. "And I think this sounds good. It can't be any worse than the last movie."

"That is very true," Rachel replied, standing up. "I'll be right back."

She walked into her bedroom and went to the closet to find something to put on her arms. Kurt and Tina liked to keep the room cooler than she preferred most of the time, so even though it was June, she often had to wear a sweater. She grabbed the hoodie Finn left behind and slipped it over her head, wrapping her arms around herself.

When she went back into the living room, the movie had begun playing, so she hurried over, sitting down between her friends. She saw out of her peripheral vision that they were both staring at her, but she tried to ignore it. It was hard, though, and after a few minutes, she looked between them and asked, "What?"

"Isn't that Finn's?" Kurt asked.

"Technically it's mine now," Rachel replied.

She looked back to the movie, but her friends were still staring at her. Sighing, she slumped down in her seat, hoping they would get tired soon and focus on the movie.

"Are you sure you're over him?" Tina asked.

"What?" Rachel said, looking at her in confusion.

"You're wearing his hoodie," Tina stated. "That seems a little—"

"Like you're having second thoughts about breaking up with him," Kurt finished.

"It's just a hoodie," Rachel replied. "It doesn't mean anything except it's my favorite, so he left it for me. I mean—yes, I've wondered if I did the right thing breaking up with him, but this has nothing to do with that."

"You're not thinking of getting back together, are you?" Tina asked.

"No," Rachel replied. "Not exactly." Kurt and Tina exchanged looks, and Rachel huffed. "It's not that I necessarily think we're right for each other; I just forgot how much I dislike being single and trying to date. After the guy at the coffee shop and that disastrous blind date Jesse set me up on, I realized how easy it was being with Finn."

"Well, I love you both, but you did the right thing," Kurt declared.

"I know," Rachel mumbled. "I just—I miss having someone to come home to and cuddle with. Is it too much to want a love like the ones in the musicals? I know it's probably not realistic, so you don't have to say anything, but I just wish I could find someone like that. Someone you see and you just know instantly that this person is going to change your life for the better." Rachel smiled sadly. "Sometimes I feel like I'm never going to find that perfect person."

"Believe me, I know _exactly_ how you feel," Kurt replied.

"I think we all do," Tina added.

Rachel leaned her head on Kurt's shoulder and took Tina's hand. "I'm confident we will all find someone perfect for us; I just wish it would happen sooner rather than later."

"Maybe you will find some gorgeous English guy while you're in London," Tina remarked.

"Or girl," Kurt added.

Rachel smiled. "I do love their accents."

"Talk about a long distance relationship, though," Kurt said.

Rachel sighed. "We should probably watch the movie; talking about this is making me even more depressed."

She loved her friends and greatly enjoyed spending her nights with them, but she did wish she had someone right now. It wasn't that she felt like she _needed_ someone, but she was the type of person who enjoyed being in a relationship and all the perks that came with it. She wasn't just going to settle for anyone, though, and she knew it was going to take some time before the right person finally came along.

* * *

Quinn shifted on the couch, trying to get into a more comfortable position. Her friends really needed a new couch and she was tempted to go take the one she and Sam purchased. She was the one who paid for it, so it's not like it would be stealing in any way. The armrest was much more comfortable to lean her back against when she was reading a book. Brittany and Santana's couch was lumpy, hard, and sagged in the middle.

"Are you going to get off your ass or are you gonna sit there all day?" Santana asked, practically sitting on her legs when Quinn didn't move them quickly enough. "Shouldn't you be working or something?"

"It's Sunday," Quinn stated.

"So?" Santana replied.

"So I don't work on Sundays," Quinn said, rolling her eyes.

"Well, do something," Santana said, sounding annoyed. "Your ass had been laying here for two days."

"I'm reading," Quinn replied, lifting her book for emphasis. "Maybe you should try it some time."

"I prefer having a life, thanks," Santana retorted.

"I have a life," Quinn argued.

"I don't think you do," Santana replied. "You sit around all day unless Britts and I drag you someplace. Even then, you complain the whole time and make me want to shove something in your mouth just to shut you up. Or you take off without telling us and make Brittany worry that something happened to you."

Quinn sighed; Santana kept bringing up the other night, making her feel guilty. When she took off, she also shut off her phone, and apparently they tried calling her for hours. They had even driven around looking for her, but didn't find her. When Quinn finally got back to their apartment, Santana was livid and Brittany was so happy to see her that she cried. She didn't think about either of them worrying so much about her; as wrapped up as they were in each other, she really didn't think they would even notice she'd gone until they were going to leave, and by then she would have sent them a text.

"Are you ever going to tell me what the hell happened?" Santana asked.

Quinn shook her head. "It doesn't matter."

"Like hell it doesn't," Santana replied.

"Do you have to curse so much?" Quinn asked.

"Damn right I do," Santana said with a smirk. "What can I say? You bring it out in me." Santana turned serious again. "I swear, if that guy tried anything, I will personally hunt him down and make sure he lacks the parts to ever try anything again."

"He didn't," Quinn replied. "He invited me back to his place, but he didn't try anything. And he only did that because I was the one who kissed him." She felt herself blushing. "Actually, I kind of grabbed him and made out with him right outside the bathroom."

Santana nodded her head in approval. "Go, Q."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "I'm not proud of it. I just broke off my engagement and it is far too soon to think of something like that."

"Says who?" Santana asked. "If you want to use some guy for sex to get over Trouty Mouth, go for it."

"I wasn't going to have sex with him," Quinn said. "You know I'm not like that."

"Maybe you should be," Santana replied. "You're far too repressed. Your parents have you thinking sex is bad, but it's not. No one cares who you've slept with or how many people, and I don't believe that you really care, either. You just think that's what you're supposed to do just like everything else you've ever done. You need to stop caring what your parents think. No matter what you do, you're never going to be good enough for them, so why bother? Be good enough for yourself; no one else matters, so why give a shit about what they think?"

Quinn looked down; she wished she didn't care what her parents thought, but she still felt like that little girl, who wanted nothing more than their approval. She knew they loved her, but Santana was right. She was never going to be good enough for them and she knew it. Her sister had been the perfect child, and no matter how much she tried to live up to it, she just couldn't. She did everything her sister did—winning homecoming queen, prom queen, becoming valedictorian, dating the quarterback, captain of the cheerleading squad—but her sister had done it all before her.

"It's not as easy as you make it sound," Quinn stated.

"It could be," Santana replied. "Quit hiding who you are from them." Santana scoffed. "Quit hiding who you are from yourself. Do what _you_ want for once. I mean, did you even love Sam? Because you two were about as passionate as a sack of potatoes."

"I did love Sam," Quinn said, meaning it.

"But were you _in_ love with him?" Santana asked. "Half the time you acted like two friends or worse—brother and sister."

Quinn flinched at the description. More than once, people would ask if they were brother and sister. It actually happened more times than she cared to admit. Even a couple people she worked with thought it after she brought Sam to an office party. They had been surprised to learn than he was actually her fiancé. Quinn always just figured it was because they had a similar look with their blonde hair and close eye color.

"I don't know, okay?" Quinn admitted.

"Well, maybe you need to figure it out," Santana advised before standing up. "Maybe then you can finally be happy."

Santana walked off, leaving Quinn alone with her book, but she was no longer in the mood to read.

* * *

"Ian says you're ignoring his calls," Jesse stated the moment she sat down.

"Hello to you, too," Rachel replied. "Why does Ian even have my number?"

"I gave it to him," Jesse said with a shrug.

"Why would you do that?" Rachel asked. "I told you I had a terrible time with him."

"I don't see why you won't give him a second chance," Jesse commented.

"Because it was a horrible date," Rachel replied. "It was probably one of the worst dates I have ever had. It was probably one of the worst dates _anyone _had ever had. He was on his phone over half the time and when he wasn't, we still really didn't have anything to talk about."

"He just had a lot going on at work," Jesse said.

"Why are you being so persistent about this?" Rachel asked.

"I just think you two would like each other," Jesse replied.

Rachel narrowed her eyes, not believing it for one moment. Jesse may be one of her best friends, but he was also a bit of a schemer, and he was being far too persistent about this.

"Okay, fine." Jesse crossed his arms. "Maybe I hoped you would change your mind about this two month London trip."

"Do you really think a guy would change my mind about following my dreams?" Rachel asked, tilting her head.

"It almost did once before," Jesse pointed out.

"Well, I was young and naive then," Rachel replied. "It was high school; I have changed since then."

Jesse sighed. "Fine."

She smiled softly at her friend. "I'll be back before you know it."

Jesse gave her a look, but didn't say anything. She had known that he was going to miss her—he hadn't really said it, but his comments were enough to know—but she didn't know he was going to actively try to get her to change her mind. It was sweet, really; it wouldn't work, but it was nice to know someone was going to miss her. Nothing was going to stop her from going to London now. She was far too excited about it and knew in her heart that it was the right thing for her even if it was also a little scary at the same time.

"Is the waitress ever going to come?" Rachel asked, looking around.

"I already ordered," Jesse replied.

"But you don't know what I wanted," Rachel said, huffing.

"Rachel, you get three things here and you alternate what you order," Jesse stated, rolling his eyes. "I knew exactly what you would order today."

She wondered if she really was that predictable or if Jesse just knew her that well. She figured it was probably a bit of both, though. They came here every few weeks, sometimes even weekly when they had the time, and she really did only order three things from the menu. In her defense, they didn't have a big menu and there were only so many options for her, but the food was excellent, so they kept coming back regularly.

Rachel frowned. "Fine."

"I think the words you're looking for are 'thank you'," Jesse replied.

"You should have come Saturday night," Rachel remarked, ignoring Jesse's statement. "We watched a terribly sad movie and then another that we actually all enjoyed, and you know how rare that is."

"Who picked the first?" Jesse asked.

"Kurt," Rachel said with a smile.

"Of course," Jesse replied. "He had the worst taste in movies out of everyone I've met, and that's saying something considering we sometimes let Finn choose."

Rachel wanted to defend Kurt—and Finn for that matter—but Jesse was right. Kurt had horrible taste or at least horrible luck when it came to choosing duds, and Finn was more of an action movie fan. Not all the movies her ex liked were terrible, but she didn't particularly like movies where the main plot was blowing things up. Rachel generally enjoyed romantic comedies, dramas, or—her favorite—musicals. Luckily Jesse had the same taste in movies and Tina did to some extent, but sometimes she talked them into watching a horror movie and Rachel was notorious for being a huge wimp when it came to horror movies.

"Did Kurt or Tina tell you about my party?" Rachel asked, suddenly remembering.

"Kurt called a few days ago," Jesse replied.

"Are you coming?" Rachel asked.

Jesse shrugged. "I'll have to check my schedule."

Rachel shook her head, laughing. Jesse may be acting nonchalant about it, but she knew he would be there. Unless he went with her to the airport, it would be the last time he would see her before she left, and she knew he wouldn't pass up the opportunity.

"This is going to be our last lunch date for a while," Rachel commented.

"So it is," Jesse replied.

"I'm going to miss it," Rachel said.

Jesse smiled slightly for a moment, but then went back to looking unaffected. "I'm sure we'll both live."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean I'm going to miss it any less," Rachel replied.

* * *

Quinn sat nervously at the table, glancing at the door every time the bell jingled. Her mother should be there any time and she was nervous to see her. She knew the older woman would instantly zero in on her bare ring-finger and she would have to explain that the wedding was off. It wasn't a conversation she was looking forward to since her parents usually made bad news even worse with their comments. She was going to have to tell them at some point, though, and she figured it was better to get it over with now than to lie and tell them later.

When the bell jingled again, Quinn looked up to see her mother walking into the coffee shop. Her mother had suggested lunch, but she figured it would be an easier escape if they weren't sitting down at a restaurant. There was no doubt in her mind that this was going to go badly; her mother had been excited about the wedding—more excited than any other time in Quinn's life—and she was going to be disappointed. And when she was disappointed, she could say some hurtful things to her daughter.

"Sweetie," Judy said, opening up her arms as soon as she was at the table.

"Hello, mom," Quinn said, hugging the older woman back.

"I'm going to place my order and I will be right back to hear all about the wedding!" Judy said before walking away.

Quinn sighed; she wished her mother was more excited about the other aspects of her life. She never asked about her job or her friends or just how she was doing in general. Of course, Judy didn't approve of her choice in friends, and when Santana and Brittany finally came out, there was a big fight about it. Her parents thought it reflected badly on them if she was associating with lesbians, but Quinn didn't care. It was the one thing she really put her foot down about. She didn't care if they didn't approve; they were her two best friends nothing was going to change that.

"Did you and Sam finally decide on a venue?" Judy asked when she came back.

"Actually—"

"Sweetie, where is your ring?" Judy asked. "You really should wear it to let other men know you're taken. I'm sure Sam would appreciate it."

"_Actually_, mom," Quinn said, trying again. "Sam and I broke up. The wedding is off."

"Don't be ridiculous," Judy said as if it was some sort of joke. "If you and Sam are having problems, I'm sure you can work them out. You don't just call off your engagement."

"We're not working anything out," Quinn replied. "I broke things off with him and nothing is going to change that."

"Quinnie, what's going on?" Judy asked.

"Sam cheated on me," Quinn stated. "I came home early one day and found him in bed with another woman. I packed up all my stuff, and I've been staying at Brittany and Santana's for the past three weeks."

Judy made a face at the mention of Quinn's friends, which only annoyed the blonde more. She didn't understand why her mother couldn't just understand for once. Why she couldn't just sympathize instead of wanting to pretend like everything was okay. It was frustrating and slightly infuriating,

"Well, that doesn't have to mean the wedding is off," Judy insisted. "Sam just made a mistake; I'm sure he's sorry and—"

"Mom," Quinn interrupted. "Will you please just listen to me for once? Sam and I are not getting back together. Ever. There isn't going to be a wedding; I'm not getting married to him."

Judy pursed her lips. "Well, I can't say I'm surprised, really. Your father and I never really liked the boy with all that talk of comics or whatever. I just don't understand why you couldn't have decided not to marry him before we put the announcement in the newspaper. We've told everyone about your upcoming nuptials and now we're going to have to explain to them that the wedding had been called off. Of course, we won't tell them _why_."

Quinn felt like banging her head on the table as she listened to her mother speak. "Yes, I'm sure it would be far too embarrassing for _you _to have to tell everyone that your daughter was cheated on."

"You know that's not what I meant," Judy chastised.

Quinn shook her head. "That's exactly what you meant. You and Daddy don't want to have to explain to all your friends that the wedding is off because it will look bad on you. I just told you I found my fiancé cheating on me and you haven't even asked how I'm doing!"

"Quinn, you're making a scene," Judy said, looking around when Quinn raised her voice.

Quinn sighed. She didn't know what she expected or why she was necessarily upset. She knew this was exactly what was going to happen, but part of her always hoped she would be wrong. But this was probably the first time she hadn't just gone along with it. Maybe it was because of all her talks with her friends lately, but she didn't want to just accept the way things were anymore. She was tired of trying to please them when they would never do the same for her.

"Your father isn't going to be very happy about this," Judy commented.

"I don't care," Quinn said, standing up.

"Quinn!" Judy said, looking appalled.

"If you want to find me, you know my number," Quinn said, grabbing her cup of coffee from the table. "Or you know where Santana and Brittany live."

Quinn walked away, leaving her stunned mother behind. She knew her father would probably call her and give her some speech about not raising her to speak to her mother the way she did, but she didn't care. She was tired of caring. She was done doing things just to make her parents happy. Now, she wanted to find what was going to make _her_ happy.

* * *

"Hi, Daddy," Rachel said the moment her father, Leroy picked up the phone.

"Honey, it's Rachel!" Leroy called out. "Hi, sweetie."

"It's not a bad time, is it?" Rachel asked.

"For you, never," Leroy replied. "Especially when we haven't heard from you for several weeks."

"I'm sorry," Rachel apologized. "Things have been rather busy here."

"Oh?" Leroy asked.

"Well, I have some big news," Rachel said.

"You're getting back together with Finn?" Leroy guessed.

Rachel laughed lightly. "No. I am going to London for two months."

"London?" Leroy asked. "That is big."

"As you know, they're opening Living for the Weekend over there and the girl who was set to play my role dropped out," Rachel explained. "They didn't just want anyone for the role since it is just opening, so instead of letting the understudy take over, they asked if I would like to do it."

"And you said yes," Leroy said.

"Of course," Rachel said, smiling. "You know I've always wanted to perform all over the world and this is my chance to mark one of the places off my wish list."

"Well, I'm proud of you, sweetie," Leroy said.

"Proud of her for what?" she heard Hiram call in the back.

"She's going to London to perform!" Leroy called out. "Hold on; I'm going to put you on speakerphone."

"Hi, baby girl," Hiram said a few moments later.

"Hi, Dad," Rachel said, smiling.

"The West End, huh?" Hiram asked. "That's big news."

"Huge," Leroy said and she could practically hear the smile on his face.

"When do you leave?" Hiram asked.

"The end of June," Rachel replied. "Three days after my final show."

"Are you excited?" Leroy asked.

"Excited, nervous—a little scared," Rachel admitted. "I've never really gone some place like that without a friend."

"Well, maybe it will do some good for you to venture out on your own," Hiram commented. "We have no doubt you will be just fine."

"None at all," Leroy added. "You've done just fine in New York—better than fine, really—and London will be no exception."

Rachel appreciated that her fathers were always so supportive. She couldn't imagine being where she was without them. They signed her up for every vocal or dance class she ever asked to be in, they were at every Glee competition, they were there opening night of every show she was ever in. They were her biggest supports and she had no doubt they would always be. They had given her everything she could possibly want, and she was confident that she had the best parents in the world. She just hoped one day she could repay them for everything they had done for her.

"How is everything else going?" Hiram asked.

"Everything else is okay," Rachel answered. "I went on a terrible blind date last week with this guy Jesse set me up with. The guy wouldn't get off his phone; I stayed through lunch, but I quickly left the moment we were done eating. Other than that, it's mostly been work and preparing for London. And, of course, I have been spending as much time with Kurt, Tina, and Jesse as I can before I leave. I'm used to seeing them every day, and it's going to be strange being away from them for so long."

"How are they taking it?" Leroy asked with a chuckle.

Rachel huffed. "Tina's fine, but Kurt is threatening to overtake my room and Jesse is being very stubborn about everything."

"We saw Finn in town yesterday," Hiram announced.

"Honey, you know you have to segue into these things," Leroy said.

"Sorry," Hiram replied. "But we did. We didn't know if we should say hi to him or not."

"You can say hi to him if you would like," Rachel said, smiling to herself as she shook her head in amusement. "We parted on good terms and I really think this is what's best for both of us. And Finn thinks so, too. He knows why I ended things and there are no hard feelings. He would even like to remain friends, which I would also like."

"Well, that is good to hear," Leroy replied. "Next time we see him, we will be sure to say hello instead of trying not to be seen."

"We're fairly certain he saw us despite our best efforts," Hiram added.

"Enough of that," Leroy said, clearing his throat. "How is the planning going?"

Rachel laughed. "It's a bit overwhelming. There's so much to see and do there, and I feel like I'm not going to get to see everything. I'm already planning a few day trips for the days I'm not performing, and of course I want to see all the tourist sites, and there are so many plays and musicals that I would love to see while I'm there. I'm just trying to make sure I allot enough time to everything and that I don't miss anything important. I mean, I hope to go there again someday, but who knows when that will happen with the way my schedule usually is."

"How are you feeling about your final show coming up?" Leroy asked.

Rachel sighed; with all the excitement of London, she hadn't really given it a lot of thought. "I guess I'm happy to start something new, but I'm going to miss it. It was wonderful working with Jesse and everyone else, and I know I'll always have fond memories of it." Rachel laughed lightly. "I'm sure I'll be a complete mess on my final night."

"Be sure to call us and let us know how it went," Hiram said. "And email us while you're in London."

"Yes, we want lots of pictures," Leroy added.

"I'll be certain to," Rachel said with a smile. "Goodnight, Dad, Daddy."

"Goodnight, baby girl," Leroy replied.

"We love you," Hiram said.

"I love you, too," Rachel quietly said, her smile growing.

As she hung up the phone, she made a vow to remember to call her fathers more. She was often busy, but several weeks was far too long between calls, and she would just have to make the time to do it.

* * *

Quinn lifted her bag onto an empty table and walked across the coffee shop to get a latte. She'd been shopping for the past few hours—or at least trying to shop. She went in numerous stores, but the only thing she bought was at the bookstore. And books were the last thing she needed, but instead of downloading them, she decided to be impulsive and buy the physical copy. It was convenient, but she never really wanted the e-reader to begin with. Sam had insisted since she had so many books, but that was no longer an issue. Still, she knew she was going to eventually have to move them when she finally found an apartment, so it probably hadn't been the best idea.

Once she had her latte, she walked over to the table and pulled out one of her purchases. She knew you shouldn't judge a book by the cover, but sometimes she bought books for that very reason. This one of a young woman had intrigued her, and without looking at the book's description, she picked it up and put it with the other books she was going to purchase. But before she could open it to the first page, there was someone standing over her.

"Well, well, if it isn't Quinn Fabray."

"Hello, Coach Sylvester," Quinn said after taking a deep breath.

Other than her parents and Sam, this was the last person she wanted to talk to at the moment. Her old cheerleading coach always had a knack for maybe an already bad time worse, and Quinn's week—her month, really—didn't need to get any crappier. She couldn't very well just get up and walk away, though, so she plastered on a smile as she looked at the older woman. She hadn't changed a bit since Quinn graduated; she was still wearing her tracksuits and had a look of disapproval on her face.

"You didn't come to last year's reunion for the Cheerios," Sue stated. "I expected my best captain to be there."

"I was busy," Quinn said.

She had wanted to go—cheerleading was always one of her favorite parts about high school—but there was something Sam had wanted to do, so they didn't go. She didn't even remember what they did instead; she just remembered wishing she had gone to the reunion rather than going along with Sam.

"What are you doing with your life these days?" Sue asked. "I heard you went to the University of Lima after high school. Pierce told me you were engaged to Evans."

"Well, actually, I ended things a few weeks ago," Quinn explained.

"Did his lips finally scare you off?" Sue asked.

Quinn shook her head. "No, not quite. He cheated on me."

"So, I ask again, what are you doing with your life," Sue repeated.

"I'm a real estate agent," Quinn replied. "I'm currently living with Brittany and Santana while I look for a new apartment."

Sue nodded. "That's it?"

"That's it," Quinn said, trying not to roll her eyes at her former mentor.

"You always reminded me of a young Sue Sylvester, but I guess I was wrong," Sue stated. "Real estate agent? Most girls on my squad can't find their way out of a paper bag, but I always thought you were different. I had high hopes for you, Fabray. I thought you would be one of the few to make it out of this town, but I guess I was wrong about something for once in my life. I have to say, I'm disappointed in you."

It stung to hear that coming from her; she knew her parents were disappointed in her, but this felt worse. As crazy as her former coach was, she had looked up to this woman. So to hear her saying these things hurt. She wasn't about to let her know that, though, so she put on her best icy facade as she looked at Sue.

"My life is just fine," Quinn said even though she didn't believe it.

"If you ever want to make something of yourself, you know where to find me," Sue said.

With that, the woman walked away, leaving Quinn alone again. She released a shuddering breath and put her head in her hands, trying to calm herself. She knew there was no point in getting upset over her words. The woman had probably said much worse to her in the past, but after the past few weeks, it just made it worse. Quinn knew she was a disappointment; she didn't have to hear it from Sue Sylvester to know it. Her life was falling apart; the only thing she still had were her friends and her job, and she didn't even like her job. She hated it, in fact.

Putting her newly purchased book back into the bag, she picked up her latte, gathered her things, and walked to her car. She needed to clear her mind and she thought maybe a drive would help with it. She needed to figure out her life; she needed to figure out what she wanted to do and the sooner, the better. She was tired of feeling like this—like a failure and a disappointment to everyone around her.

She couldn't let high school be the highlight of her life like it was for her mother and her sister. She wanted more than that; she didn't want to be miserable her whole life. Brittany was right about her needing a new plan. As upset as she'd been that Sam ruined her old one, she now knew it was for the better. Deep down, she didn't really want any of those things like she tried to convince herself she did. She just needed to figure out what she really did want and make it happen. She had been doing nothing with her life for far too long and it was time to change that.

* * *

"I can't believe it's our last night out," Tina said.

"Not forever," Rachel replied. "I'll only be gone for two months."

"Which is a long time," Tina stated. "Maybe not for you, though; I'm sure you'll be having far too much fun to notice."

"At least you will still have Kurt and Jesse here," Rachel said. "I'll be completely alone over there. Unless one of you decides to visit me."

Tina laughed. "I asked my boss for the time off, but I don't know if he will give it to me, so we'll just have to see."

"Drinks," Kurt said, bringing a tray over to their table. "Where did Jesse go?"

"He saw a girl he wanted to dance with," Rachel said, rolling her eyes.

"I'm guessing since he didn't come back, she actually danced with him," Tina said.

"I guess you owe him five dollars," Rachel remarked.

"Well, it's his loss," Kurt said, picking up Jesse's shot and throwing it back.

Rachel shook her head, laughing. She was definitely going to miss this; going out with her friends was always a fun time and she couldn't imagine not doing it for the next two months. She really hoped one of them would be able to visit her there, but it was looking doubtful. They all had work and she knew it wasn't so easy for any of them to get off, especially Jesse. Regardless, it didn't really diminish her excitement about going; she would just have to try to make friends with the new cast.

"To Rachel," Kurt said.

"I think we've already toasted to me three times tonight," Rachel said with a giggle.

Kurt shrugged. "So?"

"So I think we're going to be drunk by the end of the night," Rachel replied.

She was already a little tipsy, which wasn't really like her. They went to bars and clubs a lot, but she was usually fairly good about pacing herself. She had only been drunk a handful of times and that was usually while at the apartment. But it _was _one of her final nights in New York and she was going to enjoy herself tonight, even if it meant paying for it in the morning.

"You owe me," Jesse said, smirking as he walked up to their table. "And I even got her number."

"What are the chances it's real?" Kurt asked.

Jesse scowled as he pocketed the piece of paper. "Where's my drink."

"In Kurt's stomach," Tina answered.

Kurt shrugged when Jesse stared at him. "You shouldn't have left."

"I was gone five minutes!" Jesse replied.

"Guys, no fighting tonight," Rachel declared. "Kurt, go get us all more drinks and don't drink any of them on the way unless they're yours." She looked at Jesse when he smirked. "You go with him. And no arguing; it's my night, remember?"

"Isn't Tuesday your night?" Kurt asked.

"I said no arguing," Rachel said, pointing toward the bar.

"You heard her," Tina said as she put her hands on her hips.

They both laughed when Kurt and Jesse did as she told them, and Rachel said, "It's nice when the boys listen."

"Too bad it doesn't happen more often," Tina replied.

"Would you like to dance?"

Rachel looked up at the voice, wondering who the girl was talking to, but she was looking at Rachel. The brunette glanced at her friend, who smiled at her. She was used to having guys ask her to dance, but she couldn't remember if a girl had ever approached her. It was a refreshing change for her.

"I would love to," Rachel answered after a moment before turning to Tina. "Don't let Kurt steal my drink."

Tina laughed. "I'll try, but I can't promise anything."

Rachel followed behind the woman until they were on the dance floor. Judging by the way she moved, Rachel guessed she was a dancer or performer of some kind. It was a nice change of pace from the dancing ability of the guys that generally asked her to dance. For once, she didn't feel like her feet were going to be stepped on—Finn was never a very good dancer despite being in Glee Club for three years—and she could simply enjoy it.

"Are you a dancer?" Rachel asked about halfway through the song.

"Singer," she answered. "I go to NYADA, though, so I've taken a few dance classes."

"I went there!" Rachel said.

"I know," the girl replied. "You're Rachel Berry. I've seen you in Living for the Weekend twice. You're amazing"

Rachel felt herself blushing. She didn't get recognized a lot or if she did, people didn't usually say anything to her. Every now and then, someone would ask for her autograph or ask if she was the one in a certain musical, but it wasn't a common occurrence. As much as she imagined what it would be like for fans to ask for her autograph, she never really knew what to say when it actually happened. It was the one time she became shy.

"Thank you," Rachel said, ducking her head slightly.

"I didn't know if you would say yes to a dance," she said, smiling at Rachel. "I'm happy you did."

"I'm happy I did, too," Rachel remarked.

Rachel continued dancing with the girl, getting a little closer to her than she usually would with a stranger. She didn't know if it was the alcohol or if it was because the girl was incredibly attractive, but she was definitely letting herself let go a little more than usual. As much as she was enjoying herself, when the song ended, the girl pulled away.

"Do you need to get back to your friends?" she asked.

"I think they can wait one more song," Rachel replied.

"I'm Spencer, by the way," the girl said, leaning in, her lips brushing Rachel's ear.

Rachel had no intention of anything happening with this girl. She wasn't the type to have a one night stand and she was leaving in only a few days, which would make it difficult for anything else. But that didn't mean she couldn't flirt and dance for a bit. She didn't even care if her drink was gone by the time she went back to her friends.

* * *

Quinn cringed as she took a drink of tequila, straight from the bottle. Santana laughed at her and Brittany was practically bouncing up and down with excitement. She wasn't planning on getting drunk, but she was already halfway there, and it didn't seem like they were going to slow down anytime soon. Naturally, Santana had been the one to pull out the bottles of alcohol, and after the week Quinn had been through, it didn't seem like such a bad idea to partake.

"That's disgusting," Quinn said, handing the bottle back to Santana.

"Whatever," Santana said, pouring some into the shot glasses. "You just need to stop being such a pansy." She downed two shots, smacking the empty glasses down on the table. "It's your turn."

Quinn sighed. "I once walked in on my parents having sex."

They were taking turns telling things that no one else knew about them—also Santana's idea—and it had already resulted in several embarrassing stories. Quinn was trying to keep the more embarrassing things to herself, but it was hard when her friends already knew so much about her. She guessed she could start lying about things, but that just felt wrong. Although, she wouldn't put it past Santana to do just that. Of course, Santana rarely got embarrassed over anything, so she probably didn't care to say anything.

Santana snorted. "No wonder you're such a prude. If I saw Russell on top of your mother, I'd probably never wanna have sex, either."

"Eww," Quinn said, scrunching up her face in disgust. "And no, that's not why."

"Then why?" Santana asked, smirking.

"I believe it's Brittany's turn," Quinn said, trying to deflect the attention off of her.

"I—" Brittany paused, clearly thinking. "I once let Lord Tubbington eat your dinner, San."

Santana scoffed. "When?"

"Last week," Brittany said with a slight giggle.

"Fucking cat," Santana mumbled, shaking her head.

Quinn couldn't help but laugh. Santana hated that cat and its predecessor—also named Lord Tubbington—and it was locked up in their bedroom during the day, so she didn't have to see it. She'd said numerous times how the cat was out to get her; Quinn knew she was just being over-dramatic, but the cat did seem to have a slight vindictive side when it came to Santana. She had personally watched the cat poop in Santana's slipper with the litter box only feet away.

"I once dropped my brother's toothbrush in the toilet and never told him," Santana said with a grin.

"That's gross," Quinn remarked.

"That is very mean, San," Brittany added.

"What?" Santana asked. "I knew he'd be mad at me if I told him, so I just didn't tell him. Luckily for him, it was a clean bowl. Your turn, Q."

Quinn took the shot Santana held out and down it, trying to control the look of disgust on her face. "I—I've always wanted to travel and see the world or at least part of it, but I've never been out of the country and I've only ever been out of the state for our Nationals competitions."

"That would be fun," Brittany said with a smile. "Why do you want to go?"

"I've always wanted to go to England, Ireland, and Italy the most," Quinn replied. "France, Australia, Germany, and the Netherlands would be nice, too."

"So why don't you go?" Santana asked.

"Sam never wanted to go," Quinn said with a shrug. "And I was always too afraid to go on my own; plus, there's always work and it costs money." Quinn sighed. "Your turn again, Brittany."

"When I was four, I jumped off the roof and broke my leg," Brittany said.

"I already knew that," Santana replied.

"Did you know I did it because I thought I was a fairy and could fly?" Brittany asked.

Santana shook her head but still had a look of adoration on her face as she looked at her girlfriend. "Why did you think that?"

"My mom read me this book about this girl that didn't know she was a fairy and her name was Brittany, so I thought it was about me," Brittany replied, blushing a bit.

Santana began laughing. "Okay, I was the one that put Coach Sylvester's megaphone in the urinal senior year."

They all began laughing and Brittany said, "I always wondered who did that."

"I thought she was going to murder us all," Quinn commented. "I can't believe it's your fault she made us spend an extra three hours at practice every morning for that month."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Santana said, not sounding sorry at all. "Next."

"I—" Quinn definitely knew she was slightly drunk if she was going to say what she was about to say, "had plastic surgery before I moved here."

"What?" Santana asked, looking stunned for once.

"On my nose," Quinn said with a nod of her head. "I asked my father for it when he got his new job and he agreed."

"Wow, Q, that's messed up," Santana replied.

"I know," Quinn said, sighing. "I was determined to be perfect. Before that, I had lost a lot of weight, dyed my hair, and got contacts, but I still hated my nose." Quinn laughed wryly. "It didn't take much to convince my parents. I may have wanted to be perfect, but they wanted it even more."

"Can I drive over to your parents' house and kick their ass?" Santana asked, looking completely serious.

"No," Quinn said. "And I think it's Brittany's turn."

As she listened to Brittany, she smiled softly. She didn't know what she would have done these past few weeks if it hadn't been for her friends. They may drive her nuts—Santana more so than Brittany—but she wouldn't change a thing about them.

* * *

Rachel couldn't wipe the ecstatic smile off her face or dispel the excitement that was still coursing through her body. Her final performance was amazing if she said so herself, and it was an incredible rush being on that stage. All her friends had been there and she had never heard such loud applause with the exception of maybe opening night. She made sure to give her final performance her all—not that she didn't always do that—and she was sure that it showed.

When there was a knock at her dressing room door, she didn't hesitate to bound over to it, opening it. She expected it to be Jesse or maybe Kurt and Tina; she wasn't expecting her fathers to be standing there with a large bouquet of flowers in Hiram's hands. She was stunned silent for a moment, but then squealed and threw herself in Leroy's arms before hugging Hiram as she tried not to squash the flowers he was holding.

"What are you doing here?" she finally asked.

"You didn't think we would miss your final performance, did you?" Leroy asked.

"We've had the tickets since the day you told us you were leaving the show," Hiram added. "We wanted it to be a surprise."

"Well, you certainly succeeded at that," Rachel said with a giggle.

"It was just going to be a one day thing, but when Kurt told us about your going away party, we thought we would extend our stay," Leroy said, smiling widely.

Rachel beamed and wrapped an arm around each of them. "I'm so happy you're here."

She was surprised they were there—she didn't have an inkling that they would do this—but it was just the type of thing they liked to do. It wasn't the first time they had surprised her at a show and she doubted it would be the last. She had a feeling they were the reason the audience was so loud and it made her smile to think that they had been out there.

"Your friends are waiting, so if you want to get ready, we're taking everyone out to dinner," Hiram said.

Rachel nodded. "I just need to change and I will be right out."

"Do you need help carrying anything?" Leroy asked.

"No," Rachel said, looking around her dressing room. "I'm planning on coming back tomorrow and getting everything."

Leroy nodded. "Well, we'll be out here when you're ready."

Rachel shut the door and hurried to get changed and do her hair and makeup to something a little more her. It took her about fifteen minutes before she was on her way to meet up with her loved ones. When she joined them, they were all in high spirits and opted to walk to wherever her fathers were taking them. So, they set out, stopping along the way so Rachel could sign autographs for some fans who were waiting on her. No one seemed to mind that they had to wait; mostly, they just seemed happy for her. Even Jesse was in a little better mood that evening than he had been lately.

By the time they walked into the restaurant, Rachel had at least stopped nearly vibrating from the excitement of performing, but she was still in a wonderful mood. She didn't even care that the hostess gave them a dirty look for being rather loud; they were all in a good mood and it was a wonderful feeling to know her friends were so happy.

"So, how would you rate your performance tonight?" Kurt asked her.

"I think I would have to give it a ten," Rachel said, smiling widely.

"You were amazing," Tina chimed in. "You even made Kurt cry."

"I wasn't crying," Kurt replied. "I was just—a little misty."

Rachel laughed. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I made myself cry, too."

"Yes, but you always cry when you sing," Kurt joked.

"I do not!" Rachel replied.

"Just most of the time," Leroy said.

"Daddy!" Rachel said, crossing her arms.

"We love you, sweetie, but you know it's true," Leroy replied.

"It is," Hiram added.

"Fine, but there's nothing wrong with being emotional while singing," Rachel defended.

"We never said there was, baby girl," Hiram said, putting his arm around her, and giving her shoulder a squeeze.

If it was anyone else, she may be offended over it, but she knew they were just teasing her. She did get rather emotional while performing, but she always thought that was one of the reasons she was so effective. She always gave each performance her all, putting her heart and soul into everything she sang. It often resulted in tears, but there was really nothing she could do to stop it; she felt the songs so much that it just happened.

"I'm so glad you two came," Rachel said for probably the third time since she learned her fathers were there.

"We'd never miss it," Leroy replied, wrapping an arm around her.

"Sometimes I forget how lucky I am," Rachel stated. "Then a night like tonight happens and I remember that I have the best fathers and the best friends in the world." Rachel wiped a tear that was beginning to fall down her cheek. "I love you all so much."

"You're not allowed to cry," Kurt said. "If you cry, you know I'll cry, and we can't have that."

Rachel laughed, wiping more tears away. "I'm afraid I can't help it; it's been a very emotional night."

"Imagine how she's going to be at her going away party," Jesse remarked.

"God help us all," Kurt said, nudging Rachel playfully."

Rachel laughed again, shaking her head. She had a feeling she was going to be a complete mess on Tuesday and probably just as big of a mess on Wednesday when she actually had to say goodbye to her friends. Still, she had no regrets; she would miss her friends and her life in New York, but it was only two months and she knew they would all make it through it just fine. Even if there were going to be a lot of tears involved.

* * *

"Sit down, Q," Santana said, walking past her.

"I am sitting down," Quinn pointed out.

"At the table," Santana said, rolling her eyes.

Quinn's eyebrow rose as she stood up; she figured this talk would come any time and she figured it was finally here. She had been living there for nearly a month and Santana wanted her out. It was understandable, and even though she still hadn't found an apartment she liked, she was just going to have to suck it up and choose one.

She was about to apologize and say she would move, but when she walked toward the table, Brittany was already sitting down and had an excited smile on her face. She knew her friend and she knew she wouldn't look like that if Santana was about to kick her out of the apartment. She looked at Santana curiously, but her friend's face was unreadable. So, she did as Santana demanded and took a seat at the kitchen table.

"What's going on?" Quinn asked.

"Here," Santana said, holding out an envelope.

"What is it?" Quinn asked as she took it.

Santana rolled her eyes again. "Open it and you'll see."

Quinn narrowed her eyes in suspicion, but opened it nevertheless. When she pulled out what was inside, she was staring at a plane ticket that had her name on it. A plane ticket from Columbus to London.

"You leave in two days," Santana stated. "Consider it an early Christmas present. And birthday present. For the next twenty years."

"Wait—what?" Quinn asked, looking up at her friends.

"You said you wanted to see the world," Brittany said, smiling.

"But—I can't," Quinn said, shaking her head. "I have work and—"

"Work's already taken care of," Santana interrupted. "I knew you had a bunch of vacation days that you were going to use for the wedding and honeymoon, so I talked to your boss and she's letting you off for the next month."

"A month?" Quinn asked in complete shock.

Brittany reached out and took her hand. "You don't have to go—"

"Like hell she isn't," Santana spat. "That ticket cost a fortune."

"But," Brittany leveled Santana with a glare, "we think it would be good for you. We know you have all that money saved up and we think you should spend it on this. You told us the other night how you want to see the world and now you can start. This can be your new plan."

Quinn didn't know what to say. Could she really take off work a whole month and blow her savings on a trip to London. She'd always dreamed of going, but when presented with the opportunity, it seemed crazy. She did have a lot of money saved—she and Sam had planned on using it for the wedding and honeymoon—so she knew she did have the funds to go. Still, it wasn't like her to do something like this. Going to another country by herself? The thought honestly scared her.

"Look, Q, you say you wanna do this, so do it," Santana said. "What's stopping you? You have the money, your boss is letting you off work, and I know you have a passport—there is no downside."

"I just—I—" Quinn was at a loss for a reason not to go. As crazy and scary as it seemed, it was also kind of exciting to think about. She could finally get a stamp in her passport like she'd always wanted and would finally get to see the city she had dreamed of seeing since she was a child. She could visit 221b Baker Street and Platform 9 3/4 and take a trip to Canterbury—all the places she'd read about in books.

"We can help you pack," Brittany said, smiling.

"I can't believe you two did this," Quinn said, looking at the ticket in her hands. "You're not just doing this to get me out of your apartment, are you?"

"It is an added bonus," Santana said with a shrug.

"We just want you to be happy," Brittany stated. "You told us you no longer know what you want to do with your life and we thought this might help you figure it out."

"Thank you," Quinn said, hugging the blonde first before turning to Santana.

"Your thanks can be not hugging me," Santana said, holding up her hands to stop her.

Quinn shook her head and hugged Santana despite her protest. She was tense at first, but gradually loosened up a bit and returned the hug. It was brief, but neither of them were really the affectionate type, so it was more than they'd hugged in years.

"Oh, God, I leave in two days," Quinn said as it began to hit her.

"Can we go shopping?" Brittany asked, sounding excited about the idea.

"I think I'm going to have to," Quinn said, knowing there was a lot she would need to get for the trip.

"We can go right now!" Brittany said, jumping up, and running into her bedroom.

"It was Brittany's idea," Santana stated.

"I figured," Quinn replied.

"I suggested we just take you to a strip club or something," Santana said.

Quinn laughed; she didn't doubt it. "I think this is a better present."

Santana shrugged. "You don't know the healing powers of a strip club." She smiled. "But maybe Brittany's idea was a good one."

"Definitely," Quinn said, nodding.

"So you're going?" Santana asked.

"I'm going," Quinn said with a light laugh.

She couldn't believe she was, but the more she thought about it, the more excited she got. It wasn't something she would have thought of, but with her friends giving her the push, it was beginning to sound like a perfect idea.

* * *

As Rachel walked around the apartment, she couldn't believe how lucky she was. Sometimes she still felt like that girl in high school who didn't have many friends, but looking around, she realized how untrue that was. There were several dozen people there and they were all there for her. Most of them were cast and crew from Living for the Weekend, there were several from previous projects she had worked on, some friends she made at NYADA, and then of course her fathers and her three best friends.

"How are you doing?" Tina asked.

Rachel released a deep breath. "There are a lot of people here."

Tina laughed lightly. "I told Kurt that he may be invited too many people, but you know him."

"There are never too many people when a party is involved," Rachel said.

"Exactly," Tina replied.

"It's nice, though," Rachel commented. "I really thought it would be just us and a few other people. I didn't know so many people would want to say goodbye."

"Is Jesse still sulking?" Tina asked.

"Yes, but he's busying himself with Jenny," Rachel replied, looking across the room.

"Does he know she has a boyfriend?" Tina asked.

"He knows," Rachel answered.

Tina rolled her eyes. "I will never understand him."

"I think he's afraid of commitment," Rachel stated. "He knows nothing serious will ever become of anything if he continues to flirt with girls who are already taken. Think about it; what was the last serious relationship he was in? I think the longest he's gone out with any girl was a month and then he dumped her for no reason. He wouldn't tell me why, but I believe it was getting a little too serious for him and he ran. He didn't even deny it when I told him what I thought."

"Interesting," Tina said, narrowing her eyes slightly as she looked at Jesse.

"What are you two doing in here?" Kurt asked, coming into the kitchen.

"Talking," Tina said with a slight shrug.

"Well, get out there," Kurt said, ushering her out. "There will be no hiding in the kitchen tonight." He grabbed Rachel by the arm when she tried to leave. "You stay."

"What about no hiding in the kitchen?" Rachel asked, smiling.

"I just wanted to ask if you want to say a few words to everyone," Kurt said. "You obviously don't have to, but I thought I would ask."

"I can," Rachel replied.

Kurt nodded. "Let me know when you want to do it and I'll stop the music for it."

"Okay, give me a few minutes and I'll be right out there," Rachel said.

Kurt smiled and pulled her into a quick hug. "I'm going to miss you."

"It's only—"

"I know, I know," Kurt interrupted. "It's only two months, but that seems like a long time right now."

Rachel smiled softly. "I know; it does for me, too."

Kurt returned her smile and turned to go back out to the party. He had been running from one group to another all night or refilling the refreshment and food table, trying to be a good host. She felt bad that Kurt was doing so much—with some help from Tina—but he wouldn't let her help him. He'd said it was her night and she wasn't going to lift a finger.

"Is this where all the cool kids are?" Hiram asked, walking in as Kurt was leaving.

"Obviously," Rachel joked.

Hiram laughed. "How are you doing, sweetie?"

"I'm fine," Rachel said, smiling. "I'm getting a little nervous about leaving tomorrow, but I suppose that it to be expected."

"It is a big chance," Hiram commented. "It's not like it's permanent, though, so even if you hate it, it's only for two months."

"That's what I keep telling myself," Rachel replied. "Although, I really think I'll like it; I've been reading about all the places I would like to visit and everything has such an interesting history. It's amazing to think how old some of the buildings are, especially compared to here."

"I have a feeling you're going to love it," Hiram said.

Rachel smiled. "I hope so."

"There you are," Leroy said, walking in.

"Here we are," Hiram replied with a laugh.

"Are you hiding?" Leroy asked.

Rachel laughed lightly. "No; just talking."

"Well, Kurt is wondering when you're going to come out here," Leroy said.

"Go on," Hiram said. nudging her.

Rachel walked into the living room, her fathers following close behind. As soon as she walked into the room, Kurt turned the music down, and everyone turned to look at her. She really wished she had prepared something to say, but it hadn't crossed her mind, so she was just going to have to wing it.

"I would like to thank you all for coming here tonight," Rachel began. "I know I'm only going to be away for a few months, but I will miss everyone. I would especially like to thank the cast and crew of Living for the Weekend; it had been wonderful working with each and every one of you and I'm going to miss seeing you every day. I don't know what the next few months are going to bring, but whatever it may be, I'm sure it's going to be exciting. So, thank you all for being here at the start of this adventure."

She smiled at her friends and there was a smattering of applause. Kurt turned the music back up and Rachel walked through the small crowd to the back of the room, where Kurt, Jesse, and Tina were standing with her fathers. As nice as it was that everyone else was there, they were the five people in the room she cared about most, and she was going to spend as much time with them as should could in her remaining few hours.

* * *

As Quinn finally walked onto the plane, she was grateful to get out of the airport terminal. She had a two hour layover in New York, but now she was finally getting onto the plane that would take her to London Heathrow Airport. The layover wouldn't have been bad, but her flight had switched gates without her realizing it, leaving her scrambling to get to the correct one. She was one of the last to arrive at the gate, but luckily she made it onto the plane.

It was quite full as she walked down the narrow aisle and she hoped she could find a place for her carry-on bag. Knowing her luck, she wouldn't, but she was trying to stay optimistic. As she made her way toward the back of the plane, a man nearly hit her in the head with his bag and she got stuck behind an old woman, who was having trouble getting her bag into the overhead bin. Thankfully, someone helped her and Quinn was finally able to make it to her seat.

She was on the side of the plane, but not next to the window. She didn't relish the idea of having an aisle seat, but considering Santana and Brittany had bought the tickets last minute, it was to be expected. On the last flight she was stuck next to a middle-aged man, but there was a small brunette sitting next to her empty seat. She looked around her age and had headphones in, mouthing the words to whatever song she was listening to.

When Quinn got to her seat, she looked in the overhead bin and it thankfully had room for her bag. The only other thing inside was a small, purple suitcase that she assumed was the brunette's. She tried shoving her bag inside with one hand as she moved the purple suitcase to the side with her other.

"Let me help."

Quinn was about to say she didn't need any help when the brunette jumped up and turned her bag to allow Quinn's to go in more easily. When they were done, they both took their seats and Quinn said, "Thanks."

"It's my fault," the brunette replied. "I should have been more careful when I put my bag inside."

Quinn nodded and pulled out a book and her iPod from her backpack, which she then placed under the seat in front of her.

"Have you been to London before?" the brunette asked.

"I haven't, no," Quinn said with a sigh. "I've never been out of the country, actually."

"Me either," the brunette said with a genuine smile. "I can't wait to get there, but I'm not looking forward to the seven hour flight. I'm not very good about sitting still for that long, so I apologize in advance if I get a little hyper. My fathers once drove us to New York and they swore they would never do it again because of the way I behaved." The brunette laughed. "I must say, I'm a little better about it now, but old habits die hard." She looked at Quinn. "I'm Rachel, by the way."

"Quinn," she said, looking at Rachel curiously.

"That's a pretty name," Rachel commented. "Are you from New York or did you just have a layover here?"

"I'm from Ohio," Quinn answered.

Rachel looked excited. "Me too! I moved to New York after high school to attend school and follow my dreams of being on Broadway."

"How did that work out?" Quinn asked.

Rachel's smile grew. "Very well. I've had the starring role in Living for the Weekend for the past year, and now that it's opening on the West End. I'm going there for the next few months to reprise my role."

"Wow," Quinn said, actually impressed.

"What do you do, if you don't mind me asking," Rachel said, looking at her with interest.

"I'm just a real estate agent," Quinn replied.

"Are you going to London for business?" Rachel asked.

Quinn shook her head. "I'm going to London for me. It's been a long month and my friends thought it would be a good idea to get away. So, they bought me a ticket."

"Your friends sound nice," Rachel replied.

Quinn smiled softly. "They can be."

It had been a tearful goodbye at the airport—for Brittany anyway—and Santana actually got a little sappy with her. She knew her friends were going to miss her and she was definitely going to miss them. It would be weird not seeing them for a month; it was probably the longest they had ever gone without seeing each other.

"I understand what you mean about it being a long month," Rachel remarked. "It has been quite eventful for me as well and I think this trip will do me some good. And as much as I love New York City, I'm looking forward to the change of scenery."

They fell silent as the captain came over the loudspeaker. Quinn was not a fan of takeoffs, so a lump instantly formed in her throat and she felt a little lightheaded. She knew she would fine once they got into the air, but the anticipation of taking off was horrible.

"Are you alright?" Rachel asked, looking concerned. "You look incredibly pale."

"I hate taking off," Quinn admitted as they taxied down the runway.

"I can assure you that nothing is going to happen," Rachel said.

"How do you know?" Quinn asked.

"I can sense these things," Rachel whispered as if it was a secret.

There was a small bump and Quinn instantly reached out to grip the armrest, but instead of getting the armrest, Rachel's hand was there. "Sorry."

"It's quite alright," Rachel said, reaching up, and grabbing Quinn's hand as she tried to pull it away.

Despite the fact that she was holding a complete stranger's hand, it did help her relax a little. Rachel gave her a smile, causing Quinn to relax a little bit more. She was still tense as the plane went up, but it wasn't as bad as usual.

"Do you have any plans for when you're in London?" Rachel asked.

"Not really," Quinn replied. "I only found out two days ago that I was going, and I spent most of that time making sure I had everything I needed."

"Well, I have quite a bit planned out, and I know we just met, but since I'm assuming you don't know anyone in London either, maybe we can go to a few of the places together," Rachel suggested. "I'm sure everything will be much more interesting with a companion. I tried to get one of my friends to come with me, but none of them could afford to take the time off work."

"That sounds—nice, actually," Quinn found herself saying.

Rachel smiled widely. "Perfect."

As Quinn let go of Rachel's hand, she looked at the brunette. She didn't trust easily, but something was telling her she could trust this girl. She was definitely going to have to remember to go see her show on the West End. She may not know Rachel, but something told her the brunette was probably spectacular.

When she looked away, she thought about what Brittany told her right before dropping her off at the airport. She knew Brittany was just trying to ease her worries about going, but maybe she was right. Maybe this trip would be a new beginning for her.

Maybe it would change her life.

* * *

**The name of the story is from The Saturdays song 30 Days, which is what I was listening to when I got the idea for the story. There will be a second part to this one of these days that will follow the next 30 days, but I have to find the time to write it. Also, if people like this well enough, I may do a series of stories beyond what I initially conceived doing. Even if everyone hates this, though, there will be a second part because my girlfriend is demanding it lol.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it and thanks for reading.**


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